The Detention Squad: Birth of Faggotry
by godoftentaclehentai69
Summary: Brayan, Jay, Clark, Jesus, and Noah take on the forces of faggotry.
1. Chapter 1

Whitney Temperatures

Detention Squad

Birth of Faggotry

Chapter Juan

**JUST LETTING YOU KNOW, WE OWN ALL THESE "CHARACTERS." DON'T LET ANYBODY TELL YOU OTHERWISE. **

**Prologue**

In a universe collided by bulshittery, a single tear fell from the cheek of the Messican smash lord. He could forget losing to post-retcon Metaknight, but he could never forget the memories of detention. Jesus Macias was laughing so hard that his ovaries were popping, all while looking at the jealous faces of his noble peers. The faggot only had to serve one hour of detention, and Joe the hoe let it slide. The others got double the hours. Clark, by soul, was part of this feud. When he wasn't jerking off to dank memes, he would cry for the sake of the other racially diverse assholes in da crew. But Mr. Spratt had further plans to rape Brayan, Jay, Clark, Jesus and Noah up the ass.

"Sir, we have a problem. The mafia boss didn't receive the index of our Gatorade shipments to his lair. The kids love that shit," said the hot blonde assistant.

"Pipe down, bitch," replied Spratt, "I got an idea. Gather up the saddest faggots in the school and have them take the blame. In fact, I got a perfect idea of who they should be. It'll still be in Whitney's name, so we shouldn't have a problem. How much are we making off of this? Like 40k or some shit? It's worth it. Feed the kids some bullshit about this being a secret mission or some other crap. The damn principal should've told me she worked for the mafia before asking to hire me. Like, damn."

"What will the sub group be called? The boss might ask for regular shipments from them."

"We'll call them what that other team of faggots was called…..**THE DETENTION SQUAD!"**

**More Current Shit Happens Below This Line**

"Why the fuck are you assholes bringing me along?" asked the skateboarding beanie faggot.

"Shut the fuck up, Clark," said the Asian kid, "You're coming with us."

Beside these two jackasses, there were Brayan, the god of the Mexican people and Jay, the neckbeard. Oh yeah, and that asshole Jesus, too. Some guy on the loud speaker called them in through the office. As they made their way in, Mr. Spratt came up to welcome them.

"Ah, welcome. Now, I've got a deal for you troublesome little shits. Make it happen consecutively until you graduate, and I'll take the detention off your record. Hell, I'll make sure you won't get into a crappy college."

"What kind of deal is it?" inquired the curly haired Messican.

"Let's just say it's a delivery service. You'll be operating under the title of 'The Detention Squad.'"

"But," began Clark, "I've never even been in detention."

"Quiet, cunt. You're coming along with these other rejects for this job no matter what. The more the merrier. Now, what I need you guys to do is attack me with everything you got."

"Anything goes?" Jay asked. "I've been waiting to fuck your shit for a while, now."

"Yeah, well, none of you losers are going to get very far. I've been taking _Fagbo Ballet _classes for almost twenty years now. I will shit fury all over y-"

Clark was already chilling on his skateboard on top of Spratt's head. Meanwhile, Jesus summoned Mario while Brayan put on his hair gel. Noah's first Rainbow Fist to Mr. Spratt's genitalia had little to no affect.

"Woah!" Noah exclaimed. "Spratt man's got no nards!"

Spratt quickly countered with his _Fagbo Ballet. _With a very flamboyant leap, he knocked over Clark who could no longer chill on his skateboard while smashing his knee into Noah's face. Jay scratched Spratt's left ass cheek with his flaming leather shoes, and Brayan already got his hair sharp as fuck. Plucking off a piece of his hair, he aimed it towards Spratt, whose reflexes were just 2speed. Knocking Jay and Jesus aside, he deflected the faster-than-bullet hair flick back at Brayan. Blood from Brayan's sharp wound spilled all over the area, but the nearby secretaries that were watching gave little to no shits. Rolling on the ground, defeated, The Detention Squad moaned in fury.

"Well," remarked Spratt, "you guys are weak as shit, but I'm going to send you guys for the shipment anyway. Be ready by afternoon tomorrow. You can leave now. Oh, and stop spilling blood all over the carpet, asshole."

"What a dick," commented Brayan, who was putting pressure on his wound.

As the horny teens walked away from the scene, another shadowy figure came in to meet Spratt. He was of a short stature while on the chubby side.

"Oh, hello," greeted Spratt. "You're the boss, right? First time I've seen you in person. Mr. Kang, was it? Well, we gathered some people who were actually available to fulfill the drug quotas. It should be delivered to you tomorrow."

"_Good," _replied the short male, "_All according to plan, I see. I hope my brother hasn't been too much trouble for you."_

Jesse removed his hat to reveal his face. He had to try his best to sound badass, being a mafia boss and all.

**End of Chapter 1**


	2. Chapter 2

Whitney Temperatures

Detention Squad

Birth of Faggotry

Chapter 2

"I say we track the IP Address of one of the _Feminism is Justice _group members."

"No way! That'll make the faggotry meter explode!"

Glonchak and Suzanne Campbell were elected as the ABC Unified School District's faggotry busters. Though it may not have seemed like it, faggotry was considered a high threat to the district. The last time they let a faggot slip by and get into a position of power, Dr. Buss became the principal of Whitney High School, and what a tragedy that was. When a faggot gets into a position of power, he or she becomes virtually untouchable. That's what Glonchak and Campbell were there for. Justice.

A crucial aspect of detecting and taking care of faggots was the faggotry meter. It was shaped like a thermometer that went from a scale of 1 to 10. If pointed at a person, it reveals their level of faggotry. If a person gets anything slightly above a 2, he or she may get a tap on the back from a faggotry buster and the said person will be asked to stop being such a faggot. A score of something in the 5 range warranties an interview and maybe some medication will come into effect. If anybody who is scanned is in this range, the meter will beep loudly. The higher the level, the higher the seriousness of the precautions. Anything between 7 and 9 might get the person of interest arrested until he or she stops being such a faggot. At a level of 10, the faggotry busters will be allowed to use lethal force without asking for permission from their superiors and may be allowed to kill the faggot depending on the circumstances.

Glonchak had seen his fair share of douchebaggery when he was teaching at Whitney High School. In fact, the overload of terrible decisions made to the school by the board made him puke and resign, leaving the poor school to slowly die both economically and academically. He thought the faggotry buster job suited him more, since faggots murdered his family. Suzanne Campbell was a faggotry buster in training who had a side job in Whitney, which is also the high school that her children got accepted into.

Nearly a month had passed, and Campbell and Glonchak had not been able to detect a single faggot since then. They were forced to resort to desperate measures such as finding morons on crappy social media websites. However, after arguing which feminist to arrest, they decided to scan the students of Campbell's own school. Nearly 2 years had passed since Whitney got a faggotry scan. During these scans, the freshmen usually got the highest numbers from the faggotry meter, so checking the freshmen first was the best plan of option for Campbell and Glonchak.

They started scanning the students in alphabetical order by last name. Very few people managed to get anything above a two, even though some were extremely close. They were reaching the Gs when the faggotry meter started beeping very loudly.

"Well," said Glonchak, "Looks like there's somebody in the Gs looking for a whipping."

"N-No, sir," whispered Campbell, "The meter is pointing towards you..."

There was a moment when the world seemed to stand still. It felt like everybody in the vicinity was expecting something loud and sudden, but it just never seemed to come. A deafening silence.

"What?" inquired Glonchak, "B-But I can't be a…a faggot." He was trembling in his tracks as his teeth were chattering, and every single freshman was just staring at him.

"It's okay, sir. After all the hard work we've done together, I'm sure they'll give you a chance."

"No, Suzanne. You don't understand! I'm becoming one of those things! The same things that killed my family! I can't go on like this. I'm sorry, Suzanne. It was nice knowing you, but I guess this is the end for me. You'll become a fine faggotry buster one day, and I'm sure your kids will also be the same." Glonchak pulled the emergency Colt .45 from his belt.

"NO!"

But she was all too late. The gun had already been fired right to his head. Glonchak, the man who busted over 1,000 faggots in the first year of his career, had fallen. Glonchak, the man who would give his life for the district, had shot himself. Glonchak, the man who was a husband and father, had died.

The days of mourning seemed to fly by in an instant for Campbell. With her being discouraged to go to work after the instant, many faggots were roaming freely in the school, and the board was very vulnerable to attack. Campbell had fallen into an abyss of both fear and grief. She was lost in the woods, but a flashlight came to give her some sight.

It was a knock on the door. The sound blended in with the pittering and pattering of the rain outside her quarters. It was revealed to be a man in a jet black jacket that covered his face after Campbell led him into her office.

"Hello, there," she greeted, "I haven't seen you around here before."

The voice of the man who just walked in was eerie and dry, and the little skin that he was showing seemed like that of a zombie's. His body was shaped like a floppy dick.

"_Listen to me, Suzanne. Glonchak is not a faggot."_

"What? What are you talking about?"

"_The faggotry meter was not pointing towards Glonchak. It was pointing to somebody crouching behind him in the bushes. The coward was Saahil Iyer. My guess is that he was afraid to be labeled as a faggot if Glonchak scanned him. He probably sneaked away from the I section where he was supposed to be standing to get ready to be scanned and hid behind the bushes right behind Glonchak. It was a smart move, though. Misleading everybody into thinking that Glonchak was a faggot allowed Saahil to escape, which is why he wasn't there at the end of the day. I know how these kids work. I was a student here once."_

"I appreciate your concerns, sir, but I need solid proof. No matter how much that the incident stressed me out, I have to follow the book."

"_Tell me, Suzanne, does Glonchak look like a faggot to you?"_

"No, of course-"

"_Then just trust me, Suzanne."_

"Well, the only thing I can do to make sure is scan Saahil."

The mysterious man sat up and made his way to the door.

"_Paco._"

"What?"

"_My name is Paco."_

And with that, the man made his leave. Quickly, Campbell scanned through the student files. There was only one record of a student named Paco who enrolled at Whitney. He was supposedly murdered during 9th grade. The only suspect was the evil Barry, but she was found innocent due to the lack of evidence. He was also a member of the _former_ Detention Squad. The former Detention Squad consisted of Del Que, Robert Dunn, Paco, and Benjamin Espejo. Del Que was a senior at the time, and was the only one that actually volunteered to join. Robert Dunn and Paco were in the same grade when the group was formed, and were supposedly best friends. He must have been pretty broken at the news of his friend's death. Ben was a sophomore, and he was said to have created the idea of a "Detention Squad." Too bad they're all washed up now, and Del Que hasn't been seen for years and is rumored to be working for a criminal mastermind.

"What? Paco? But he's dead! Gone to the recesses of time and space itself! Whatever. I have more pressing matters to attend to..."

Suzanne found Saahil defecating on her son's homework soon after she had learned of his crime. "You can't do that! That job belongs to his teacher, you BITCH!" Suzanne screamed. She scanned Saahil, but the faggotry meter said that he was a 10000000000000000000000000000000

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000\. Suzanne's faggotry gauge exploded due to the pressure. "HOLY SHIIIIET," she exclaimed.

"Surprised, are you?" asked Saahil, smiling a disgustingly disgusting smile. "Over the years, my faggotry has reached heights that your small mind cannot even comprehend! You-" Saahil was cut short of his boring-as-fuck monologuing because Ms. Campbell was dead. Due to the large number, her brain had blown all over Saahil's erect penis. Still, she still had enough life in her to utter her last words.

"Mom?" Trevor Campbell, Suzanne's white son, uttered from the doorway.

"Son, listen closely." The camera zoomed into Suzanne's deformed face. "To defeat a faggot, you must become a faggot." Trevor held her in his arms as she died. He looked up at Saahil as he finished taking a shit on Trevor's homework.

"You'll pay for this!" yelled Trevor. Saahil simply stripped nude, hissed, and projectile-vomited a ball of disease at Trevor. "I'll get you! I swear!" He ran, holding back his tears.

Trevor took his mother's words to heart. Over the course of five months, he trained to become a faggot, but he couldn't do it. He wasn't like Saahil. He couldn't even adequately insult an old retard that was dyslexic and had autism. Trevor decided that he had no choice but to track down the legendary faggot: Tyler the Destructatingator. Trevor climbed the highest mountains and fought monsters, but eventually, he found Tyler. He turned out to be a basement dweller who played League of Legends. "I've come for your soul, Tyler."

"Fine," said Tyler. "Not like I have anything better to do. But I better warn you-" his speech was cut short as Trevor began the ritual.

"Dhkjlggugdgblktjsgiongkldjniosfhjnostuoisuoixvimcntiotndxiounhjrioguvnt;udoitusfvno9rjfpoituklfjvcnyftsvgitodigyrygdkj!" Trevor yelled, scratching his ass in anticipation. Trevor licked all of Tyler's facial expressions into his mouth while doing this. Then, Trevor began to hyperventilate as Tyler's soul was pushed into Trevor's body. Their soul became one as Tyler's faggotry merged with Trevor's soul. This transformation created a new type of being that would rival Saahil's level of douchebaggery. Trevor was not Trevor anymore, and Tyler was not Tyler anymore. They combined to create the faggiest Asian and White cross. This hybrid with no name travelled the long path back to Whitney High School, where Saahil was waiting for him on the roof.

"Faggots can sense other faggots," said Saahil, "I see you have merged with someone."

"You took my mother from me," said the hybrid, "Now, I'm going to crush you and eat your dead body."

"You think you're the only one that's been training? Look at me now!" As Saahil spouted his usual bullshit, he transformed with a snap of his fingers. He had reached a new level of faggotry. After praising Hitler for so much these past five months, Saahil had become part of the master Aryan race. His pale blonde hair and blue eyes matched that of Trevor's. "You shouldn't have merged so soon! If you learned how to summon back your original appearance, you could have used faggot synthesis, and you might have actually stood a chance! What do you have now? Just brute faggot strength?"

"You shouldn't judge so soon! Maybe I _can _change my new hybrid hair back to blonde!" No matter how hard he concentrated, Tyler's mindset kept interfering with Trevor's. "Ah! Fuck it!" Trevor decided to send the first blow to Saahil. The punch sent Saahil astray into the air. Though the hybrid had superior strength, it could not do nearly enough damage without faggot synthesis. No matter how hard he hit, Saahil kept coming back for more. Suddenly, the hybrid fell to the ground and collapsed due to all the exhaustion. "Saahil!" Trevor thought. "He's the source of all my problems! If only I could take back control of my life! If only I could make Saahil feel eternal pain!"

All this negativity in Trevor's mind created a spark. The body of the hybrid separated into two parts. Tyler's body and conscious was destroyed to yield this reaction. He completely evaporated. The two parts were Trevor and the product of Trevor's negativity. The new product came from an egg. Due to Tyler's yield, the new hatchling was the most Asian looking thing in existence. It was everything Trevor needed to torture Saahil. The new product was the ultimate Anti-Saahil. It had no need for faggot synthesis. It hatched out with black hair and glasses.

"My name," said the new offspring, "is Min Jae."

"Y-Yes," was all Trevor could say with his last breath as Saahil slapped him so hard that his stomach imploded. Another Campbell had fallen, but his hatred and all his other negative emotions lived on in Min Jae.

Saahil laughed at Trevor's demise until Saahil looked at Min Jae. With one glance, they already hated each other. As Saahil flexed his shitty muscles, Min Jae bared his fangs and broke a badminton racquet in half. With one leap at the same time, they lunged at each other, ready to continue fighting until one of them died. But, Joe wasn't going to allow any killing on school grounds. The swift janitor stopped both of them in their tracks. He pinned both of them down in an instant.

"You, there," he said to Min Jae, "Are you even a registered student here? Hold on, I need to check the records. You look like an 8th grader."

"Might as well be," replied Min Jae.

"You're coming with me to the office, young man. We need to check your files."

It seemed that Joe didn't care less about the actual fight. He left Saahil to tend to himself, as it was already 6:30 PM. These deaths and violent battles happen everyday, I guess.

**END OF CHAPTER 2**


	3. Chapter 3

Whitney Temperatures

Detention Squad

Birth of Faggotry

Chapter 3

"Del Que, stop! He'll be too scared to talk!"

"Shut up, Benspejo! I'll beat it out of this punk!"

"I know Paco's death has been hard on you, but you can't keep doing this to our hostages."

"It's not just that. My dick is gone."

"What?"

"I woke up this morning and my dick was gone!"

"Well….that's unusual."

"Umm," began the client, "can I go now?"

"Not until you tell us where you put the damn powerade!" yelled Del Que.

"But I told you I'd transport the gatorade instead!" replied the client.

As Del Que was about to throw another punch to the client, Ben pinned him down.

"That was the last straw, Del Que! I'm handing you over to the juvenile officers!"

"Wait, Ben! I'm sorry!"

"No way, Del Que, I'm sorry but this is for your own good. Things have been falling apart ever since Rob stopped coming to the regular meetings, This just isn't working out."

As the officers rushed in to the cargo bay and dragged Del Que away, Ben gave no sign of emotion whatsoever. His face stayed solid, most likely due to the downfall of the Detention Squad. Was there even a Detention Squad anymore? Everything was falling apart. It started out as an idea to benefit those who broke rules that wanted to reform. As Del Que went through the door, Ben slipped into the shadows.

"Goddamnit, Ben. I'm 18, and I was hoping for a peaceful graduation," said Del Que to himself in his cell, "I guess the squad is just history now." Suddenly, the cell opened. Standing in front of him was a very short male with glasses and ruffly heard. He had a dusty hoodie with stripes and was holding a key.

"Who the hell are you?" asked Del Que.

"I'm getting you out of here," said the squeaky voiced stranger, "so let's make a deal."

After Del Que thought for a few moments, he said, "Whatever, I'll do anything to get out of here.

As the stranger lead him out of the cell, he said, "Good. I'm glad we could come to an agreement. You see, the Kang mafia family is our number one competitor. Obviously, I would be targeted from time to time from them. And since you have worked for them for a period of time, you would be the ideal person to protect me, Mr. Que. But of course, I would like to make it worth your while."

"Body guard duty is no problem, but I still have future plans. You see, my dick is gone."

"Very well, then. The contract will last until you find your dick."

"Alright then, Mr….

"Just call me Mr. A. I'll reveal my real name when I see fit."

"You seem pretty confident that this contract will last. You sure you don't know anything about my dick?"

Mr. A smiled. "We'll just see about that in due time."

"Yo."

"But you see, I'm sort of a beacon for trouble so-"

All of a sudden, 20 mafia members wearing the Kang crest of a blue dragon.

Mr. A smirked and ordered, "_Morir."_

Del Que didn't know much Spanish, but he knew Mr.A wanted him to beat people up, and so he did. One by one, the mafias fell. A jab, a kick, and a knuckle driver. Each time he made contact, blood was shed.

"Yes, Mr. Que. Good. Very good. I trust you're ready to abandon your affiliations with The Detention Squad now that you're with me?"

"Damn straight."

And so, they walked off into the sunset, not to be seen for a very long time.


	4. Chapter 4

Whitney Temperatures

Detention Squad

Birth of Faggotry

Chapter 4

Deep in the vastness of space, there lived a blob of pure darkness, evil, faggotry, and bitchcraft. Its texture was comparable to dust and when it moved, it sounded like those nails on a chalkboard that grate on the ears and seems to rape your very soul. It would go around and see if a planet's bitchery matched its own, but not even the Planet of the Bitches could match the bitchery of the dark blob. However, the God Gary Smutz had had enough of it and he attacked the dust so ferociously that it became only a quarter of its original bitchiness. It was still the bitchiest in the universe, however, so Gary Smutz decided to strike the finishing move. But before the final blow was struck, the blob tore open a hole into another planet so it could make its evil law. The blob made its way to a small planet called "Earth" because it felt a great disturbance in the bitch-force. Something on this "Urth" place was almost as bitchy as she was! She followed the presence until she got to a quaint little place by the name of Whitney High School. _This is a nice place to begin my empire, _it thought. The dust took on the form of a female the was bitchy as all hell. _If I befriend the bitch that's in charge of this trash hole, then it will accelerate my progress! _And befriend her it did. The evil soon found a woman named Dr. Buss that ruled the school with an iron fist. The blob introduced herself as a female hyoomun named Rosellen and became the closest thing to a friend the Buss woman ever had. _Eventually, _Rosellen thought,_ I will take this school for myself. _

Then, Rosellen began to destroy her enemies one by one. The team by the name of the Detention Squad was a hindrance, so she took care of the core of the team. A young fool named Paco. Now, nothing could fight against her. But Rosellen was only the school counselor while Glonchak was the vice principal. Rosellen hired a fagsassin named Saahil to take out Glonchak for her, and it seemed to work nicely. She forced him into retirement and quickly had him "commit suicide." Buss had appointed Rosellen the next vice principal. Now, all she had to do was wait until Buss left the school and she could begin her reign. _Soon, they will all know the name… Shea._


	5. Chapter 5

Whitney Temperatures

Detention Squad

Birth of Faggotry

Chapter 5

"Hey, give me your lunch money, kid!"

"No! It's for my grandma's cancer fund!"

"But I'm hungry, you little shit! I'm gonna-"

Brayan the hunk quickly took care of the low life senior with a single stab of his spiky as fuck hair. "Be more careful next time, chico," said Brayan.

"Thank you, based Brayan!" and the little child made his leave.

"I'm proud of you, Brayan," said a voice coming from above the high ledge of the school.

"Abuelo?" replied Brayan

"Yes, child. You have done well. I remember the days when you would up random old ladies on the street for their handbags. You have greatly improved your hair powers and righteousness."

Brayan's abuelo had the largest afro in existence. It was capable of catching bullets with little to no recoil at all. It could move faster than the speed of light in certain conditions if handled correctly. He had a moustached on his forehead, his nose, and his chest, and all three of his legs. Unfortunately, Brayan Gordillo could not inherit this awesome power of fabulous facial hair. He did, however, have extreme amounts of it on his armpits.

The Gordillo family was the top manufacturer of hair gel and other hair accessories in the world. They ranged from hair gel that would give acidic aspects to the person using it to extremely flamboyant hair ties.

As Brayan made his way out of the school and to the sunset to take a walk, he encountered a gang of Neo Nazis on motorbikes. They were older than the oldest person that lived in Brayan's ghetto. As their wrinkly skin rippled in the sunlight, their large, valiant beards vibrated as they moved towards Brayan.

"Hey, get a load of this loser. He doesn't have any facial hair," said the biker in the middle.

"You know what they say about people with no facial hair," said another, "They're failures….in life."

As Brayan heard the last syllable of his sentence, he grew enraged and readied his fists to attack, but he couldn't. Their beards were just too amazing to harm. They glittered like Edward Cullen in sunlight, and as Brayan stared, the bikers started kicking the shit out of him.

However, Brayan started to hear a voice as he was moaning in pain. "Brayan," said the voice, "you do not need to be intimidated. You just need to _believe _that you have a beard,"

"O-Okay," whispered Brayan in pain. "I just need to believe…..believe….BELIEVE!"

As Brayan stood back up from his beating, the bikers stood back in awe. Brayan did not have a beard, but what he did have was a glistening pile of cotton under his nose to make up for it.

"We-We're sorry, Based Brayan! We did not know you were capable of such miracles!" pleaded one of the Neo Nazis.

"No," Brayan replied, "I'm going to beat the shit out of you, but I'll beat you up less if you kiss my cotton beard. It is objectively better than your beards."

The bikers did as they were told, but got shanked five seconds later. As the sidewalk became littered with blood caused by Brayan's hair, he met up with his abuelo and they walked into the sunset while singing _Sweet Victory_.


	6. Chapter 6

Whitney Temperatures

Detention Squad

Birth of Faggotry

Chapter 8

"Check his pockets, I bet he's carrying a gun!"

"No, don't get too close! He probably has a bomb strapped to his chest!"

"Duck and cover! I think he just said Allahu Akbar!"

The airport was a troublesome place for Jay. His scraggly neckbeard got him into a lot of trouble of times, especially in areas with cops in the vicinity. He couldn't walk an inch without being stared at by wealth White folk. One day, he got an invite from the student council vice president who travelled abroad to Canada and settled in Ontario. The invite read "Come to Ontario and bring your fedora just in case." After finally convincing the security guards that he wasn't a terrorist, he finally boarded his flight. One thing he noticed on board was that the plane was infested with Whitney alumni. After a long flight of being stared at, he was greeted by a man draped in black outside the drop off platforms.

"Did you make sure you weren't being followed?" asked the man.

"Nope," Jay replied.

"Goddamnit, you fucking retard. Whatever, just come with me to the taxi. Your code name will be Himesh."

As Jay followed the man to the nearest taxi, the mysterious stranger took off his coat and hat. "Jonathan? Jonathan Singh?" Jay asked in shock.

"Yes. Hello, Jay. It's been a while." Jonathan Singh supposedly left Whitney High School after 8th grade. Jay and Noah continuously harassed him prior to that, calling him things such as "NPC" and "beancurd." Jay had no idea why Jonathan didn't decide to punch him right then and there.

"So where are we going, Jonathan? What did you call me here? What have you been doing all this time?"

"In my spare time, I've been gathering up knowledge to be a surgeon, animal tamer, astronaut, professional soccer player, and/or a prosecutor. But never mind that. I've called you here for a special meeting." Jonathan showed his neck to Jay.

"Holy shit, Jonathan! You grew a neckbeard!" Jay knew Jonathan primarily as a person with little to no facial hair.

"You see, I was tired of being pushed around for my lack of facial hair. We're basically twins now." As Jonathan said this, his eyes seemed to glow red.

When they got off the taxi and headed to some old building, Jay started to wonder what was really going on. Jonathan was acting way too friendly in this situation, and there was something up with his eyes as well. Just as Jay was about to turn the knob of the door of the abandoned building, he was knocked out by something very hard. When he came to, he found himself tied to a chair in front of Jonathan and a whole crowd of people inside the building. They all had the famous symbol of the Eye of Providence.

"Jonathan, what the hell's going on?"

"You mean you haven't figured it out yet? I'm not Jonathan. I have taken control of his body to gain more information, even if that little outburst about his jobs was him fighting back. You see, Jay, your body holds the secret to quick facial hair growth. The Whitney student council and I have been wanting that secret for a long time now. Let me tell you something, Jay. The place we're in right now is probably the loneliest place in Canada. Nobody will be able to hear you scream." Beside Jonathan stood Gabriel Gorospe, who was another former Whitney student. He looked like he was hesitating and stressing. Then, his eyes glowed red, but he shook his head and ran towards Jay.

"JAY! RUN!" screamed Gabriel as he quickly untied Jay from his chair.

"Gabriel, you insolent asshat!" Jonathan shouted as he stabbed Gabriel with a spoon and started to chase after Jay. Jay kept running as fast as he could outside of the building and into a deep hole isolated from the rest of Ontario, where he found somebody he wouldn't expect to see in a very long time.

"Mr. Brent? What are you doing here?"

Mr. Brent rubbed his eyes, and looked up at Jay again for a few seconds. He was tied to a very large and rough rock inside the cold hole. "Jay? My god. Is that you? How are you, my boy? I haven't seen you in a year." Right after he said those words, he started coughing up blood. "Ah, Jay. I'm afraid I won't last long. I was kept here by the student council for the facial hair experiment. Listen, there's something behind this rock that will help you-HRNGH-defeat the student council. Now-" he continued to cough and hack for a while, "Jay, one last thing... beware the Rose." As Jay witnessed the final breath of Mr. Brent, he went behind the rock and continued forward to find the thing that Mr. Brent was talking about. He found a pair of leather shoes. However, it was blocked by something draped in brown cloth. As he removed the cloth, he found what seemed to be a descendant of Lord Xenu.

"What's the password?" it asked while standing completely in place holding what seemed to be a funky pistol.

Jay, surprised by the appearance of the bony alien, tried his best to think of what it could be. "Umm...Beware the rose?"

In response to Jay's words, the alien sighed. "Whatever," it holstered its gun and stepped aside. As he held the shoes in his hands, he felt extreme warmth. It seemed to block out the cold of Canada. Suddenly he heard footsteps. He quickly ran back to the entrance of the hole and peeked outside, only to see a very familiar shape. _Jonathan, _Jay thought. _Does he know I'm here?_

"Come out, come out wherever you are," said the fiendish Singh.

Jay decided not to resort to violence just yet. "Jonathan!" Jay shouted, hoping to call out to the _real_ Jonathan's conscious. "I know you're in there! Don't let this asshole control you, whoever he is!"

"Don't you know who I am?" Jonathan's voice rose in pitch substantially, "JAYYYYYY?"

Jay let out a small shriek. "Holy shit. Dhiraj?" Dhiraj, yet another former student of Whitney, was a quite small one. Bullied wouldn't be the right word to put it. Nobody really took him seriously. He was just thought of as _that one guy_ with a high voice and short stature. "Why are you doing this?"

"Don't you see this, Jay? After all those years, I finally get to control something! Though I attend another school, I still have been working at controlling the student council at Whitney! If only you could feel what I feel, Jay. The feeling of holding everything in your palms, the thrill of being the master. It truly is a wonderful thing." Dhiraj, coming closer and closer, sent a chill down Jay's spine. Jay, in panic, quickly threw the leather shoes he found at Dhiraj who howled in pain. His arm lit on fire. "Goddamnit! That won't be enough!"

Jay decided to take a chance and actually wear the leather shoes. Suddenly, he felt the ground beneath him heat up. He kicked off the ground and hit Dhiraj in the kneecaps, who moaned in pain yet again. The flames propelled Jay, and Dhiraj could barely keep up, let alone touch him. Continuously, he kicked Dhiraj again and again until he started bleeding all over. Then, Jay realized that it was Jonathan's body that he was harming. However, with his opponent knocked out, Jay had to rack his brain thinking of a way to separate the two. Then, he remembered that Dhiraj was allergic to peanuts and a faggot. He needed a fedora and some peanuts. If he combined these two features, he could do it. But where was he gonna get the stuff?

"Wait!" said Jay. "I'm already a neckbeard, so I can already pull a fedora out of my ass!" Jay vigorously reached deep within his anus until he pulled out a fedora, and he had leftover peanut crumbs in his beard. It seemed to catch a lot of things. It once even caught a billion dollars that Jesus burned and some bubble gum. Throwing the two items at his opponent, the spirit of Dhiraj began to violently scream. What a spectacle. He had seen the shape of Dhiraj back when he was still respectable. The spirit shot out of Jonathan's stomach and soared into the sky. It was going back to his body, wherever it was. He heard the real Jonathan coughing beside him.

"Hey, buddy," said Jay, "Glad to see you're alright."

"F-Faggot," Jonathan responded, kneeing Jay's face.

Jay felt stupid for trying to rescue Jonathan after he pulled that stunt. He left the wounded Jonathan in the snow and went back to California.


	7. Chapter 7

Whitney Temperatures

Detention Squad

Birth of Faggotry

Chapter 10

Mr. Jeans' room was a quite harmonious place. Of course, it was basically a nerdgasm. There were posters for V for Vendetta, Watchmen, and Harry Potter all over the place. Mr. Jeans didn't really give a shit as to what his students used his room for during lunch hours. There was one particular male with a valiant blonde beard that made an unregistered appoint there. Then, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," said Robert(more commonly known as Roob the Boob) as he was stroking his blonde beard.

"H-Hi," greeted a timid Filipino female with a squeaky voice. "I'm Mr. Spratt's underage girlfriend."

"Oh, you must be Bitch #698. Well, come on. Let's get on with business."

"Well I have a na-"

The girl was quickly hushed by Robert. "Don't worry about it. You're just Bitch #698 to me." As Robert continued on with fucking Mr. Spratt's underage bitch, two other people came in through the door. The sudden appearance of Mr. A and Del Que greatly surprised the two that were banging in the room, especially Robert. Robert stopped banging in his tracks.

"Holy shit," began Rob, "Del Que? I can't believe my eyes! Where have you been these past two years?"

"Goddamnit, Mr. A!" yelled Del Que in frustration, "You told me that nobody would be here other than Mr. Jeans so you could get your goddamn Star Wars comic book! I'm supposed to be undercover! Mr. Jeans is one of the few people here that wouldn't recognize me."

"Sorry about that. Where is Mr. Jeans anyway?" inquired Mr. A in his usual high pitched voice.

"Mr. A?" asked Rob, "Wait, what the hell, Del Que? You've been working for the Nocom family this entire time you were gone?"

"I only enlisted in the Detention Squad for the Gatorade, Rob. I really had no legitimate feelings for any of you," replied Del Que.

Rob rubbed his forehead in frustration. "That explains everything. What, did you go to Paco's funeral just for the gatorade as well?"

Del Que gave a smile filled with mockery. "Yes."

Fueled with complete anger, Rob knocked Bitch #698 aside and rammed into Del Que with all his might.

"Wait! Stop, Del Que," shouted Mr. A, "You're supposed to get me _out _of trouble, not get me into it!"

Del Que's black body glistened with sweat, but Robert was so White that it was nearly blinding. In pure physical strength, they were at a stalemate. However, Robert's luscious beard gave him an advantage. Robert brushed Del Que's face with his beard, which then caused Del Que to sneeze. Using this as distraction as a moment to strike, Robert threw Bitch #698 as hard as he could at Del Que. With a loud crash, Del Que lay on the classroom floor.

"I'm not done with you yet!" exclaimed Rob. Robert's power was a quite unique one. With a wave of his hand, he could summon any amount of bitches that he fucked at any time. "I'll summon my strongest bitch! Bitch #38, I summon you!" Bitch #38 was a blonde with a body buffer than that of any famous bodybuilder you could name. Her arms were bigger than Del Que's entire body. While Del Que was stunned on the ground, the summoned bitch did a full power punch with resulted in a deafening smash. Turning his back, Rob cracked his knuckles and proceeded to carry Bitch #698 onto a desk. "Well, glad that's over with. He's probably fantasizing about drinking his shitty gatorade right now."

"My contractee is not done yet, Mr. Robert!" assured Mr. A, "I'm sure he'll follow through with his orders. It's in the contract. DEL QUE, I ORDER YOU TO STAND UP AND TEACH THE BLONDE BASTARD THE POWER OF GATORADE!" These words seemed to bring a rage onto Del Que. He stood up almost immediately and gave a crooked smile to Robert. In an instant, Del Que threw about 100 punches in 1 second. 200 punches….300 punches….400 punches. Del Que could barely restrain himself, but he did not want a murder on his hands just yet, so he abruptly forced himself to stop. The blood on Del Que's hands were not his. Robert's entire body seemed to be splattered with red. All Bitch #698 could do was awkwardly stare. It seemed that the Star Wars comic book that Mr. A was looking for was in the file cabinet of the room, so Del Que and Mr. A retrieved it and took their leave from the room in the most gentlemanly way possible. The blonde junior was left there on top of the teacher's desk, blankly staring at the ceiling with his vision bloodied. Bitch #698 left after she found her panites.

It seemed like hours passed after that battle, and Robert was still lying there in shock. Mr. Jeans was still nowhere to be found. After a while, a short and stout male made his way in to the room. "_All according to plan,_" said Jesse in an ominous tone. He just stared at Rob's body for a few minutes and left the scene. A few minutes after Jesse's visit ended, Ben Espejo himself came into the room.

He shook his head in disappointment as he stared at Robert who was still lying there. "How disappointing. I expected you to put up more of a fight, Robert. I would have loved to join you two for the thrill of battle, but at least Ms. Shea's requests are fulfilled. I can finally take this from you." Ben Espejo walked up to the unconscious Robert and pulled a silver medallion from Rob's pocket. It was oddly curved, and had Paco's old freshman picture ingrained on it. "With this, I can finally study Paco's reality warping abilities. Shea's going to pay me a ton for this. You're lucky I don't kill you right now, Robert. I still need you for one last thing that will come up later on. Who knows, you may just end up surviving." Ben put his hands on his face. "Mark my words, you will learn of the man behind this mask soon, Robert."

While Ben was uttering these words in the dark room filled with nerdgasms, Mr. A was getting himself some corn nuggets while Del Que was watching over him in the shadows. Just as he was about to put his coin in the vending machine, Min Jae came over to knock the money out from Mr. A's hands. "Who the hell are you, midget? Whatever, give me that quarter so I can get some Hatorades." said Min Jae with his oddly loud voice.

"Fuck off," replied Mr. A. The two had very contrasting voices. Mr. A's voice made Min Jae's sound like that of a lion's. Min Jae responded with a punch that failed to register, as Mr. A's reflexes were far superior. With one smack of the back of Mr. A's hands, Min Jae fell to the ground with his face bleeding. Instantly, Min Jae regretted his choice of words as well as his actions towards Mr. A.

"W-Wait!" pleaded Min Jae. "I'm sorry! Please, I can just pay you back once I steal Saahil's allowance."

"I don't think you understand, foolish child. What you owe cannot be repaid _con dinero_." Appearing at lightning speed out of the shadows, Del Que appeared in front of Min Jae with pure fury in his eyes. After what seemed like a one-sided bloody smackdown of knuckles and shins, Min Jae fell to the ground. His facial expression had completely frozen as blood was trickling down and pooling over all around his body.

Mr. A took out a piece of paper from a tiny scratchpad he kept in his pocket and wrote "Suck my dick." in it. Mr. A tore off the piece of paper and threw it at Min Jae. "Here's your receipt," Mr. A smugly commented. All of the bystanders who were watching stared in awe as Del Que disappeared in an instant and Mr. A walked away after getting his corn nuggets. Saahil nearly pissed his pants at the sight of it. His rival Min Jae who we was neck in neck with was defeated in an instant. He realized then just how weak he was in the world. At that moment, it became clear that there were opposing forces desperately trying to control the school every second.

The new Detention Squad was completely ignorant to this, as their primary goal was to drop of the new flavored Gatorade at the main office. Their way, however, was blocked by the biggest tumblr fangirl in the world who was standing in the middle of the deserted corridor.

"You think I haven't forgotten how you made me cry?!" she yelled at Clark with tears flowing out of her eyes as her unibrow violently shook. "All you men really are useless!"

"Damn, bitch," replied Clark, "You really don't know when to piss off."

"I'm gonna take all that gatorade and drink it before you assholes can drop it off!" The rest of the Detention Squad just stared in amusement as Clark declared he would take care of this lonely 8th grade girl by himself. Instantly, as Clark took out his skateboard, the tumblr girl's unibrows grew substantially in length and attempted to whip Clark off of his ride. They twirled in fury as Clark tried to shorten the distance between the tumblr girl and himself. However with one bad ollie, Clark slipped a little to the left, which allowed the unibrows to whip Clark once in the shoulder. Clark let out a short groan of pain, as the wound on his shoulders was bleeding. Noah, Brayan, Jay, and Jesus attempted to jump in, but the other end of the unibrow whipped them back in place as well. While the girl was distracted as she was howling with laughter, Clark banged his skateboard against her head, which squirted out quite a few gallons of blood.

Noah, who was laughing off her death, went to give Clark a pat on the back. "Looks like that bitch won't be reposting dank 4chan memes for a while, huh?" Noah said as he smiled. It was a smile that Clark did not return.

"How the hell can you guys be so proud of yourself?" Clark rhetorically asked, "That was absolutely pathetic. Just one person was enough to give us some trouble. A silly tumblr girl, at that. Do you realize just how weak we are?"

"Woah," Noah replied, "Calm down. We won in the end. That's all that matters."

"No it doesn't! We should have beat that idiot in 5 seconds flat! We took much longer than that, obviously. Hell, if she wasn't an idiot, her powers could have kept us at bay even longer, and we might have even died. We're not strong enough to uphold the name of the Detention Squad! Hell, I didn't even want to be in it in the first place. But this shit is just ridiculous. Maybe I'll learn a thing or two from Bony Cawk all the way in Utah. I might even have some fun away from this hellish school. Whatever, I'm getting out of this stupid squad, no matter how much Spratt's going to punish me. Later, m8s." Clark mounted his skateboard and kicked off in fury.

"Clark, wait!" But Noah's words had no effect. Clark was desperate to get stronger. Who knows how long he'll be kicking it off with Bony Cawk.

"El bullshit!" yelled Brayan. "Well, we're short one member now. Not sure how Spratt's going to react."

"We're screwed," commented Jay, "But we might as well drop this gatorade off anyway."

In the corner of the deserted hallways, a certain White male ran into Mr. Jeans room for the sake of his friend. "Don't worry, Rob," assured Niggaless the speedy sophmore, "I'll get you to the infirmary as soon as I can." The only person in the school that was whiter than Rob was Niggaless. Niggaless was born Black, but he got the Black knocked out of him in an epic fight with Liebenau, the infamous Geometry teacher. Niggaless looked closer at Robert's bruises. The marks carried the shape of Del Que's famous goatee ring. Niggaless was in shock after seeing this. "Holy shit. But it couldn't be…..Del Que? Damn. Whatever, we'll get him back. I doubt he can handle two white people at once."

In the mean time, Saahil was pacing all around the school thinking for a way to get rid of Mr. A and the big burly black man for good. _This is a pretty shitty day_, Saahil thought. _I am the only king of Whitney! _Usually, while Saahil thinks to himself, he likes to push around lower classmen. As he was shoving 7th and 8th graders to the side, he accidentally shoved somebody of his own grade. Gabriel Quimpo, the guy who kicked Saahil's ass the year prior was staring at him due to the obviously intentional shove he felt from Saahil's arm.

"H-Ha!" yelled Saahil nervously. "Things aren't the way they were before, Gabe! I'm much more powerful now! Besides, my faggotry far outweighs that of-"

Saahil's speech was cut short due to the hard punch he received to his ovaries from Gabriel. "Let me show you the power," Gabriel said, "of dank memes." In a jiffy, Snoop Diggity Dawg came up behind Gabriel and rolled a joint. Saahil was entranced by the mystical illusions that Gabe summoned with the help of Snoop Diggity Dawg. As the dank started to take effect on Saahil, Gabe delivered one last blow to Saahil's brown nose. The loud crash the sound of the impact created was heard throughout the school and Saahip was blown all the way across the school. As he floated slowly down on Saahil, Gabe felt it was his duty to lay Saahil's unconscious body right next to Min Jae's.

"What the hell was that noise?" Jesus asked after dropping off the last bottle of gatorade.

"Probably the sound of Gabriel beating the shit out of Saahil. Happens all the time," Jay replied.

"Oh."

As the Detention Squad walked outside of the main building, they notice a couple of peculiar aspects. The sky was oddly pinkish even though school had only just ended, and the Sun was a peculiar shade of dark red.

"Hey guys, what the hell's going on?" asked Nathan who was running towards the Detention Squad. He was wearing his usual hoody in an oddly hot day. He was sort of a companion to the members of the Detention Squad. A fairly outgoing and upbeat fellow.

"I don't know really know," Noah stated, "The only thing-I mean person-that can create this sort of phenomenon is Vic-"

It seemed as if a huge meteor crash landed a few miles north of the Detention Squad and Nathan. It created a sort of explosion so bright that everybody in the vicinity that survived was forced to close their eyes for fear of blindness. It almost destroyed the entire grassy field in front of the school gym, which was also damaged and burning up. Amidst the chaos, Victor, a God amongst men, arose from the center of the crater. His body, though that of a freshman teenager, could take extreme amounts of damage. Hell, even one hundred more of those meteors would barely phase Victor. As he walked out, his eyes were seen to be glowing with fury. He spoke in one of the most loud and intimidating voices known to man. "Where is that damn Detention Squad?!"

The members of the Detention Squad were virtually frozen from the fear and shock caused by that statement. "What the hell does he want with us?" Brayan asked.

Noah only managed to barely make a sound with sweat pouring down his forehead."Whatever the hell it is, we better get the fuck out of here."

Mr. A could be seen from the rooftop observing this entire scene. Even Robert, who just regained consciousness, was standing outside with Niggaless watching over the fields. Jesse was viewing this situation from behind the South gates while laughing hysterically with Mr. Jeans' knocked out body next to him. He was swinging the body around in joy. "_Oh, boy! Victor's going to kick their asses now!"_

Jesse, who spent quite a lot of time getting to know Victor, was anticipating this all along. There was not a man the Milky Way who did not know the name Victor. Just as the Detention Squad was about to dash away, Victor appeared in front of them with blinding speed. "Don't try to get out of this, assholes," Victor warned, "My dad saw all that gay porn you spammed my email with! I'm in trouble because of you dicks!"

"But we didn't do anything!" pleaded Jay.

"Don't lie to me, boy! Do you have any idea how long I'll be grounded?!"

The mere presence of Victor was suffocating the Detention Squad. Victor's power was incomprehensible to the mortal mind. Just as Victor was about to kill of the Detention Squad, Nathan jumped in at the last second to save them.

"W-What?! Get off me, Nath-" Victor was unable to get his last sentence out, as Nathan injected Victor with a faggotry needle. As the green faggotry liquid began to pour into Victor's blood vessels, Victor was caught in a daze. Nathan used this opportunity to strangle Victor.

"As my hands squeeze your hard, giraffe-like neck, I want you to remember the name of the one man who beat you, Victor! Remember the name Nathan Lee!" But just as it seemed Nathan had the upper hand, his heart began to pound rapidly. _Shit, _thought Nathan, _What the hell's going on? _The pounding wouldn't stopped. It seemed that the thrill of being able to beat one of the most powerful beings in existence got Nathan a little too excited. His heart felt like it was about to pop out. As Nathan fell to the ground while moaning in pain due to his "heart attack," the injection needle got loose and fell from Victor's neck. Victor regained his strength in mere seconds and lifted the ill Nathan up by the neck.

"Too bad, Nathan. You almost got me." Victor jammed his hand deep inside of Nathan and pulled out Nathan's heart straight out. The shriek of pain that was heard right before Nathan's heart was pulled out put a mental scar in the Detention Squad. "Now then…" Victor turned towards the Detention Squad.

"WAIT!" a voice yelled in the distance. It was Manav, the head graphics designer and editor for Whitney High School. "Victor, don't be so rash! At least let me check the IP address of the people who sent you the gay porn email before you kill them?"

"Hmm…?" wondered Victor, "Fine."

As Manav cross examined the email, he finally tracked down the real IP of the person who sent it. "Noah…" called out Manav, "This email "_phatasianboi69 _" is Jesse's isn't it?"

"That bastard!" Noah cried out, "He did this! Fucking Jesse! Because of him, Nathan's dead!"

Noah walked over to Nathan's body. He felt Nathan's heart and mourned in silence.

"Noah…." called out the voice of Nathan's spirit.

"Nathan? W-What?"

"Do not blame yourself or Victor, Noah. Please."

"Nathan! Shit! I'm sorry I couldn't really care about whatever the fuck you do every day, Nathan!" Noah had a slightly unamused face.

"Noah… Hold out your Rainbow Fisting protractor."

"O-Okay." Noah did as Nathan told.

"Noah, I will always be a part of you as long as the spirit of the Rainbow Fist remains strong. Never lose hope, Noah."

Nathan's spirit flew out in a solemn fashion and merged with Noah's protractor. Noah held the protractor out in the sun, which has finally returned to normal, and turned towards the Detention Squad. "Guys. That was weird. Now let's beat up Jesse."

"Hell yeah!" roared the Detention Squad in unison.

Victor simply walked away to get a drink. He really _did _have a short attention span.

Separately, Niggaless and Robert aproached the rooftop where Del Que and Mr. A were hiding out.

"Well, well," said Del Que, "Look who's back. Hello, Niggaless. Long time no see."

"Del Que…" Niggaless observed in solitude, "I didn't want to believe it was you. But Robert told me everything."

Del Que looked puzzled. "Speaking of Rob...where the hell did he go?"

The last word of Del Que's sentence was the trigger. Rob appeared right behind Del Que, and threw a bitch while tripping Mr. A with a sweep of his legs. Taken by surprise, Del Que slipped on the muddy rooftop. Niggaless used this opportunity to toss Mr. A off the roof top.

"Ready, Rob?" asked Niggaless.

"Of course."

They both slammed on Del Que's stomach at the same time, and Del Que coughed up blood as he squirmed on the roof, trying to stay on.

"If you ever mess with the legendary White duo again…" Niggaless stated.

Rob finished the sentence for him, "We'll make sure to kill you off next time."

"W-What? But it was Rob that started the fight," said Del Que as Rob and Niggaless hopped off the roof top.

Bloodied from the fall, Mr. A went back up to meet with Del Que.

"Hey, Mr. A…"

"Yes, Del Que?"

"I think it's about damn time you told me your real name after I went through all this bullshit."

"Are you really that curious?"

"Yes."

"My name's Albin."

"Albin, huh? What an odd name." And so, they sat together, silently watching the sun set.

Jesse was humming as he dragged Mr. Jeans' bloody body all around the school. He was still anticipating his encounter with the enraged Detention Squad. After all, everything _was_ going according to plan. It always was.

As Noah met him around the corner of the lunch tables, he simply stared at Jesse for a few second.

"Thanks for following my plan, Noah," Jesse smugly stated.

"Plan? What plan?" asked Noah, "I found out that you were responsible for this goddamn mess. Was that according to your plan? You're probably just bluffing, you little shit, so give me Jeans and leave."

"Well, you see, Noah, I do my best to get you angry. After all, it makes you look weak and gullible."

In a rage, Noah struck Jesse with his Nathan-empowered Rainbow Fist, which did twice the normal damage. Jesse, who was too slow to respond, coughed out a pool of blood. Some of it even spilled on Mr. Jeans' body.

"Did you predict _that_, Jesse?"

"Well….not exactly. But I did predict that Clark would leave the Detention Squad, so I only needed to bring 4 pocket knives."

"Wait, what-"

Quicker than a midget playing table tennis, Jesse threw four pocket knives at each of the Detention Squad members, who just barely dodged them.

Jay pulled out his shit-brown fedora. "I don't know how much of an effect euphoria will have on him, but I think I can stall him." Jay tipped his fedora as fast as he could, which led to Jesse being on the verge of vomiting.

Jesus used this opportunity to summon Cap'n Falcon. "Go! Falcon! I believe in you!" he yelled. Falcon ran towards Jesse with blinding speed, but he slipped on the pool of blood right next to Mr. Jeans.

"All according to plan," Jesse whispered to himself.

Then all of a sudden, Brayan's hair came up to pierce Jesse's soft baby skin, "Was this part of your plan, fag?" yelled Brayan.

However, Jesse quickly countered by cutting Brayan's hair with an extra pocket knife that he had for just this kind of situation.

"Jesse," said Noah, "when the hell did you get so strong?"

"Well," stated Jesse, "I guess hanging around with the top dogs like Victor allowed me to pick up a few tricks. Then again, this is the work of a few years of planning. I assure you that I will _not_ fail."

"Fuckin' loser. Stop kissing up to Victor," replied Noah.

"It may seem like kissing up to you, but it's a product of years of-"

" That doesn't change the fact that you're a massive faggot!" screamed Jay as he pummeled Jesse with his shoes of the finest leather. However, Jesse barely even flinched. All he did was smile and blow Jay away with simply his breath. But there was something Jesse hadn't accounted for. Mario jumped from nowhere and burned the shit out of the fat present on Jesse's body. Surprised, Jesse turned around and saw Jesus, 3DS in hand. Jesse's eyes grew wide with anger.

"Goddammit!" Jesse yelled, "This was my last clean shirt!" Then, he quickly turned around and pulled out a hidden handgun to shoot Jesus in the lungs. Needless to say, Jesus keeled over in agony.

"My only weakness! _**BULLETS!**_" screamed Jesus, who began to try to suck the poison out of his wound, despite there being no poison in the bullet.

Brayan wrapped Noah's hand in his abuelo's special hair that he had kept for so many years. "Chico. Take care of it."

But Noah was already gone. He jumped at Jesse, but Jesse merely stepped back and Noah was in a crater on the ground.

Jesus, having finally realized that the gun was a _Nerf _gun, summoned all of the clones(including the semi-clones) in Smash. Dr. Mario, Lucina, Dark Pit, Luigi, Toon Link, Falco, and Ganondorf all fought Jesse at once, but one by one, they fell. Jesus was left with no energy, so he collapsed on the ground.

Brayan threw himself and his hair at Jesse, but it was no use. Jesse simply used his pocket knife.

Jesse seemed unstoppable. Nothing was to be able to stop him. However, that was when the _he_ arrived. Jesse was just about to strike the killing blow by tossing a flurry of pocket knives, but a skinny but muscular arm stopped him. Jesse turned around to see, "_V-V-V-VICTOR!_"

The fact that Jesse had double-crossed him finally dawned on Victor. "Do you even know about what kind of trouble I'm in? I had to ground my dad for a week! Now I feel like a dick for it!"

"C-Come on, Victor! You know we'll always be pals!" Jesse didn't sound very confident anymore.

"No, Jesse. This is the final straw! You have wrecked my brain for the last time. Now prepare to pay the ultimate price!" Victor went into the Victor state, held Jesse up by the collar and almost threw him to the ground, but a familiar noise attacked his ears. The ice-cream truck had come.

Victor was gone almost as suddenly as he'd arrived. Jesse slowly got up and looked frightened as fuck.

"Don't worry. Victor will forget within two hours."

Jesse turned to see the Detention Squad back up and running. "Wanna lose again?" inquired Jesse.

"We don't have to fight." replied the neckbeard. "We have Victor on our side."

Jesse, realizing that the Squad could easily remind Victor about his betrayal, cowered in fear, and asked, "What are your demands?"

"Give us Mr. Jeans and leave. Like I said before."

"...Fine. But mark my words. I will be back. MARK MY WORDS!" replied Jesse. And with that, he disappeared in a flash of blue.

There was silence for about twenty seconds.

"What a faggot," someone said.

Then, the Squad left the campus, leaving Mr. Jeans to wake up in his nerdgasm of a room.

However, they may have left too soon, because as soon as they left, a pocket knife pierced Jeans' skull. The endless cycle of death in Whitney was bound to continue, as death only leads to chaos. And a lot of people at Whitney were fond of killing for some reason.


	8. Chapter 8

Whitney Temperatures

Detention Squad

Birth of Faggotry

Chapter 11

"Hey there, kids! My name's Justama, and I transport people on this rainbow railroad in the sky that runs all over Earth. My name used to be Justin Clemente, but everything changed when I enrolled into Whitney High School. I used to be your average teenage crime fighter, but then I got bit by a radioactive geometry teacher named Lama Liebenau! And now, I have the body of a llama with my human face. I can even fly now! Since I obviously can't go to school anymore, I got a job as the main rainbow transport llama for the Kang family. Shut up, it's not euphoric! Oh, hey. Looks like there's some people on the ground looking for some transport." The llama descended from the rainbow railroad from the sky to the ground on Piss-Poor Boulevard, where he met the four members of the Detention Squad on the sidewalk.

"Hi, Justin," said Noah with a tone of uncertainness in his voice. Noah along with the other three members of the Detention Squad were wearing black suits. "Could you get us to the Lakewood graveyard? We need to get to Nathan's funeral. There's free gatorade there. We'll pay you with that."

"I told you so many time already that I'm not Justin anymore! The name's Justama!" replied Justama furiously.

"Damn," Jay whispered to Jesus and Brayan, "I just can't get used to that new look on Justin. What is he, a furry?"

"Exactly," Jesus whispered back, "Liebenau really _does _ruin lives. I heard she even knocked the black out of some other kid in our school."

"Anyway," Justama addressed to the four customers, "this gatorade you're talking about better be good enough to pay for the flight. Lakewood's a long way from this city. Well, let's just get this flight going. Hop on my back, guys!"

Nervously, the four Detentioneers hopped on to Justama's back and braced themselves for the flight. Justama's body expanded in length so that he could carry the four. With a jump, Justama ascended towards the sky onto the rainbow railroad, which significantly sped them up in a blast of color. The strong wind made it seem like the passenger's skin was about to rip off.

"Actually," Justama began to ramble again, "I actually enjoy being a flying llama. Maybe I should bring Liebenau a box of chocolates and apologize for wearing so many hats in class. Oh, and I should beat up Mrs. Z on the way."

They finally landed at the Lakewood graveyard after what seemed like five minutes. "Stay here at the entrance," Noah ordered Justama, "We'll bring you the gatorade. We don't need you scaring everybody at the ceremony. They'll think we have a furry fetish and the contract suppliers probably won't hand us the gatorade if that happens." The four then began to walk in to the graveyard, which looked like it was another world on it's own. Nobody even gave a shit about covering the bodies, apparently. Things were just scattered around. Drinking gatorade near the grave of someone you hold dear was a ritual in Lakewood. In fact, some people plan to fake deaths just for the free gatorade. Gatorade is truly a wonderful thing.

"Remember, guys," Jay reminded the rest of the crew, "just _pretend _to drink the gatorade near Nathan's grave when the people that work here offer it to you for the mourning ritual. The drinks they hand out for this ceremony is top quality. Oh, and try to look a little sad. We need this gatorade to bring in to Mr. Spratt to compensate for Clark's departure. I don't even know where the hell he is right now." The Priest of Starch was waiting for them near Nathan's grave.

"I'm sure you're all deeply saddened at the death of your friend," the priest said.

Brayan tried his best to force out a tear. "W-Why yes, of course. Oh, if only Clark were here. He'd know what to say."

"Shut up, Brayan!" Noah yelled, "We don't need your depressing insights right now of all times."

"Whatever, Noah! You're not my _real _father!" Brayan, who's fake tears had just become real, turned his face away from Noah.

"Well," began the confused priest, "let us honor this Nathan's death, even if he only has 4 goddamn people at his funeral." He carried a huge box of gatorade towards the Detention Squad. "I will leave you to your drinks."

"We can't leave just yet," whispered Jesus, "We have to make this look convincing to the priest just in case we need to come back here some other time. Quick! Remember some shit about Nathan!"

"If Clark were here, he'd remember," muttered Brayan sullenly,

"Jesus _Christ_, Brayan you _FAGGOT_!" screamed Jesus, "No one else gives a _shit _about Clark!"

Then, Brayan's hair rushed at Jesus' face, and it scratched the Messican Smasher, leaving a scar on his face. Luckily, Dr. Mario came with his pills that somehow healed the wound. Then, Jesus retaliated by throwing Pikmin at Brayan.

"Guys!" Jay yelled, "The priest is going to come back soon! Stop fighting already."

Reluctantly, the two Messicans stood at ease.

"Wait, who died again?" asked Noah.

"I think his name was Nithian or something...Oh yeah! It was Nathane," a bruised Brayan replied.

"Oh, yeah," Noah reminisced, "I remember good ol' Nathane. Always willing to let me steal his 3DS when I forgot mine."

"_Now_ who will hand out free seaweed?" Jay teared up.

Jesus wasn't listening at all to these heartfelt mourners. He was too busy playing Majora's Mask on his 3DS.

"You little pseudo-Messican hypocrite!" Brayan yelled, "You're the one that told us to make this believable!"

"Goddamnit, don't start this again, guys," Noah warned while pretending to sip his gatorade.

The old Priest of Starch slowly walked back to the four. "You guys are special kinds of morons. The gravestone clearly says 'Nathan,' you imbeciles!" The Priest of Starch looked at them more carefully. "Wait a minute. You guys are just here for the gatorade, aren't you? You disrespectful teenagers have no respect for traditions! Off with you!" The priest grabbed a shotgun from what looked to be a nearby gravestone with an opening. The four Detention Squad members ran for their lives when the priest fired his first shot and climbed the wall. Then, they began to reminisce.

"I'ma miss good ol' Nathan," said Jesus. "He always knew how to make us laugh."

"Yeah. I'll always remember him doing….. what ever he did all day," said Noah.

"What the fuck is a Nathan?" yelled Jay.

Then, the laugh track played and everyone jumped in the air while 80's music began to play.

"Hey, where's my gatorade?" asked Justama as he walked into the graveyard.

"HOLY SHIT!" someone yelled. Justama turned to see Jhore, someone who is of little importance to any story.

"Calm down," said Justama. "I'm just-"

But it was already too late. Jhore had brought out a stapler and stabbed Justama with it.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Oops, I did it again!" The 80's trumpets played as Justama faded from the screen as the Detention Squad stayed frozen in the background.


	9. Chapter 9

Whitney Temperatures

Detention Squad

Birth of Faggotry

Chapter 12

The District prison was a quiet, dark place. It was home to the district's largest fiends that ranged from murderers to people that talk in theaters. The prison guards never really seemed to mind when people got killed in their respected blocks. The top floors held the most dangerous district enemies, and were usually set up to be in solitary confinement. One of them, however, struck fear into the rest. The Chinese turtle man himself, Raymond Ouyang, stood above the rest in the prison, for he had already killed most of the inmates. However, his day was just about to get more interesting.

Raymond had just finished eating up Broseph Kony with his turtle pinschers when

he heard the block gate open up with a screech. A red headed woman came in to meet the turtle boy, and she showed no fear when walking through the pile of corpses.

"Ah," Raymond said in his soft, Chinese accent, "Mrs. Shea, what a pleasure it is to see you."

"It damn well should be," Shea replied, "Your sentence is up. I'm taking you to the outside world."

Raymond pushed his glasses up. "And what if I don't want to go?"

Shea smiled at his response. "Trust me, I have something special planned out for you. I'm sure your 'friends' will be happy to see you as well. You see, Whitney has been quite boring lately. How about you, I don't know, _do _something with the position of power I'm about to give you?"

"A seat of power? What are you talking about?"

"I'm making you secretary, Raymond. Mrs. Bailey hasn't been seen for months, and I fear the worst. I'm sure you can show us how much you have 'reformed?'"

Shea's words made Raymond stand up, revealing his clothes trickling with blood. "I'll play along, Shea. I want some entertainment myself. But mark my words, Shea. The moment you slip, I'll come at you faster and harder than anything you've ever seen."

"That's fine by me," cackled Shea.

During this nice afternoon, a more pleasant sight was to be seene away from this prison.

"Alright, Flowers, we'll keep this nice and simple so your meth-head brain can understand."

"Ok-wait what? Jeff, you promised not to call me that anymore!"

"And _you_ promised to actually go on a diet, you crack snorting whore."

The two P.E. teachers were switching classes for a single period, due to some monitoring complications. Jeff Day, an honest and hard working man, pushed his students to their limit. The fattest fatass in Day's class could easily blitz most of the students in Flowers' class. Flowers was simply staring idly a few minutes before the classes were about to switch. None of the burned out teenagers in Flowers could manage to do a single correct push-up.

"Great job, kids!" yelled Flowers in encouragement as she attempted to dance to her own rhythm, "I see you're improving at these exercises!"

"Shut up! Nobody cares!" shouted Min Jae in return. Even students like Min Jae could bully around the pathetic drug addict and she would just shed a light tear.

"Well, guys," announced Flowers, "I'm sorry to have to let you go, but rules are rules."

Mr. Day crossed the black top to Flowers' students, and Flowers went to the class Mr. Day was teaching. Min Jae, of course, was used to bullying around his P.E. teachers. Day's transition didn't phase Min Jae at all.

"I honestly pity you guys," Day remarked, "You have some shitty untrained gym 'teacher' who only knows how to pipe a couple of dance moves. You guys have probably been getting worse at the mile run every week. Now, drop down and give me 5000000000000 push-ups."

"No way!" retorted Min Jae with his chinky eyes flaring.

Mr. Day chuckled at the child's ignorance and walked up to him, which caused Min Jae to prepare his anus for battle. But this was no battle, of course, since it was more of a one-sided slaughter. The artificially created Asian 8th grader fell to the ground in less than a second's notice after witnessing a wave of Mr. Day's hands.

"Attention!" yelled a certain familiar ginger with vice-principal status. "We have some new students moving in to this period for you here today. Hopefully, they'll transition well. Don't kick their asses too hard, Jeff." Shea then proceeded to walk away back into the main office. There were four students transferring into the class that Mr. Day was currently pushing around. One of them was a battle hardened Raymond, who seemed to guide the other three. Another one of the students looked like he was straight out of the Chinese mafia, and the other teenager standing right next to him looked as if he belonged at an anime convention with foggy glassed nerds. The fourth one was dark skinned with a menacing demeanor.

"My name's Raymond."

"My name's Andy," said the one with the glasses.

"I'm Sri Ram," mumbled the dark skinned one.

"And I'm Rafferty," said the gangster-ass nigga.

Mr. Day muttered something like, "More?" and gestured that the newbies go to their respective numbers. They happened to be right behind our losers Jay and Noah.

"So…." whispered Jay, "What the hell is Raymond doing back here?"

"I don't know," Noah replied, "but stealing somebody's jacket is considered a class 100 felony in the district. He should have been gone for much longer. I don't really know the deal with the other three."

"OH NO!" yelled a shocked Flowers. "IT'S ALL PILING OUT!"

Suddenly, what appeared to be a gigantic rush of white powder stormed out of the P.E. teacher's office. It seemed as if everybody would be drowned in it. As it spread all over the blacktop, Ms. Flowers quickly grabbed an oddly shaped straw. She started snorting the powder rapidly. "You...HRNGH...can't...RHUGH...have my crack…." she moaned in ecstasy.

Mr. Day simply stared in awe at this sight along with the other students that weren't downed in the crack. Behind Flowers appeared Shea.

"Goddamnit, Flowers! What did I tell you about bringing drugs to Whitney High?" Shea rhetorically asked.

Flowers whimpered while snorting her crack, "I-I'm sorry! But I need it!"

Shea looked behind her and winked slyly to Raymond before her hands turned to dust and washed away all the crack. Shea's most well known power was her dust offense. It seemed to fit her well as Shea seemed to age very rapidly.

"No!" yelled Flowers in shock as the dust tore every last bit of crack away from her straw, "That was a week's worth of crack!" Flowers looked at Shea in anger for a few seconds, but then proceeded to snort the dust on the ground as a substitute. Flowers' foolishness in this situation lead her to faint from the vast amount that she inhaled.

Raymond clapped in delight along with Shea. "Oh my!" remarked Raymond, "What a sight. Wouldn't you agree, Mrs. Shea?" His Chinese accent along with his sophisticated tone made it hard to take him seriously most of the time. This fiasco felt like a very short scenario, but the bell rang soon after Flowers was carried to the infirmary. Noah and Jay walked into the crowded hallways, knocking over many 7th graders in the process as usual. They did, however, trip over another freshman of their familiarity.

"Oh shit," Jay said, "Vedant?"

Vedant was of a muscular stature with glasses that barely fit him and a very toned chin. "Did you hear about the councils latest bill?" he asked Jay and Noah, "The district's going to have about 50 faggotry busters from other countries patrol this place. Bill Raabe has been paranoid after Glonchak and Campbell died a few months ago. They think Campbell's death might have been the work of a faggot. A very elusive one, at that. The physical injuries also indicate it could have been a bitch that committed the crime. Not one that we know of, though."

"Bitch? Faggot? What the hell are these some new kinds of ethnicities now or something?" Noah asked.

"No," Vedant answered, "They're more like different frequencies. The different power types have been classified as neutral, bitch, faggot, and bullshit. Neutral is the most common one, followed by faggotry. Neutrals can be divided into mundies and intellectuals. Though, bullshites can be just as common in areas like California. Bitches are by far the rarest. Only one has ever been recorded, and even then, she was half bitch, half faggot. The parents are unknown."

"Who was it?" inquired Noah.

"Classified MUN info," said Vedant.

"Well then," said Jay. "We better get going."

As Jay spoke his last syllable, it seemed like turtle shell haven had collided the halls. Left and right, it seemed students were being bashed upon by hard shells. In fact one was headed right towards them.

"_Slippery slope fallacy!"_ yelled Vedant as he put his hands to the ground. The ground suddenly turned into a muddy-like texture. The shell slipped to the side and missed the three due to this transformation.

"Damn," said Noah, "That was pretty close." He slapped Jay on the head. "Why didn't you move us out of the way, jackass?"

"I will fuck your shit," said Jay in a hushed tone. Noah nodded in approval as these words were said.

"You have improved your trash talking, Jay," said Noah.

"Shit, we gotta get the hell out of these halls! What's going on anyway?" Vedant asked as he rushed to get out of the corridors with the other two.

"He couldn't be making this any more obvious," sighed Jay, "It's Raymond causing all this chaos. I recognize his trademark abilities."

"Well," said Noah, "I don't have anything better to do. Let's meet up with Brayan and Jesus so we can enjoy beating up whoever caused this." And so, they ran into the mayhem together.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	10. Chapter 10

Whitney Temperatures

Detention Squad

Birth of Faggotry

Chapter 13

The three ran for their lives as the dark green shells ran after them.

"Goddamnit! I can't slide these shells away. They're coming too fast!" yelled Vedant behind the other two. They finally saw the door at the south entrance of the school.

"Holy shit. It's all dark," Noah observed. It seemed the sky had gotten remarkably gray over a short period of time. Above the rubble of the nearly destroyed school grounds, the thunder roared as Raymond silently stared at the three boys. His stare was cold yet illusive through the dark sky. He was standing a mile away from Noah, Vedant, and Jay on what was left of the gymnasium. It looked as if a giant sword cut through the entire building. The Whitney wildcat logo on the outside of the gym was crossed out with red spray paint.

"Well," said Vedant, "I guess it _has_ to be that little Chinese kid. Is he even trying to hide it? Why the hell's he doing this?"

"Yeah," Jay replied, "He's not the type to deny things after nearly being caught red-handed."

"I don't really care," mumbled Noah, "as long as I don't have to sit next to the seat in math class that still has tumblr girl's odor."

Raymond pulled what seem to be a jade colored necklace out of his pocket and threw it forward. It seemed as though the earth itself shook when two large turtles emerged from the rubble beside Raymond. They seemed rather quick to see the three boys standing at the south entrance. They approached the three that were frozen in fear with surprisingly average speed.

"Kawaii," said Noah after he shook his head a couple of times to get his color back. "Now, taste the rainbow." Noah held up his protractor in the general direction of one of the dark green turtles. It shined a rainbow color as usual, but it seemed he picked up a few new tricks after stealing candy from his Spanish teacher. In a flash of light, about a million skittles blasted out of the glow. Unluckily for one of the turtles, it had it's mouth wide open, and Noah kept shooing the varied skittles. The turtle's mouth was jam packed with skittles, and more kept coming until it seemed the turtle got ten times fatter. With a large bang, the turtle exploded due to the large amount of candy in it's system. The blood seemed to splash everywhere as it rained from the leftovers of the dead turtle.

"Well," Jay said, "That was colorful." He was about to start on the other turtle when he heard a ring. It was coming from Vedant's pocket.

"They're in trouble," whispered Vedant as he stared at a pager that he pulled out of his pocket."

"Who?" Noah inquired.

Vedant gave a solemn stare. "My fellow MUNers." The Model United Nations group of Whitney High barely needed any backup due to their intense training and large numbers. But when it did happen, it was usually due to the OCD of Mr. Rosenberg, the history teacher. "I gotta go."

"Whatever," said Jay as he burned the second turtle to near death.

Vedant nodded and his patented MUN thrusters had him blast off into the sky. As he flew out of Shoemaker Avenue, he saw that turtles were ravaging the lands. Billions were dying of turtlecide. When Vedant got to the abandoned Norwalk Boulevard, he found Shiv's dying body.

"Vedant…" muttered the semi-corpse, "this is a trap."

All of a sudden, Saahil leapt from the ground, boring through Shiv's body. "Now you will feel the power of the Aryans."

They fought, but Vedant quickly beat the shit out of Saahil. Vedant was about to eat Saahil's feet, but he was stopped by a familiar Asian gangster. Raymond and his posse walked toward the duo.

"The fuck're you doing here?" asked Vedant politely.

"I'm here for Saahil," said Raymond.

"What?" inquired Saahil.

"To unlock your latent pseudo-intellectual powers."

"I won't let you do that!" screamed Vedant as he ran at Raymond, but Rafferty once again blocked him and punched him all the way across the stage.

Raymond walked toward Saahil chanting in the ancient language of the turtle warriors as Rafferty and Vedant fought in the background. Saahil began to glow with an otherworldly light.

"NOOOOO!" yelled Vedant as he used the hasty generalization fallacy to put Rafferty into a sweat shop. However, he was too late. The pseudo-intellectual known as Saahil was born. Raymond chuckled as he walked away with his crew.

He quickly yelled, "_Hasty generalization_!" in order to drown Vedant in a pool of curry. He slowly walked toward Vedant and stepped on his face. "You're no match for me now, you dick_. _I can steal your opinions and powers now.."

Vedant yelled, "_STRAW MAN!_" and a giant straw man rose beneath him to push him out of the hole. His straw man was about to crush Saahil, but Saahil quickly summoned a straw man of his own to counteract Vedant. The giants fought ferociously, but Vedant was too injured and surprised to do anything. He was on the ground in a matter of seconds.

_I gotta call the others, _Vedant thought to himself. He took out his pager and quickly called for help. His pager started to glow red.

"HURDY HURDY HUR!" laughed Saahil. "Even if you summon all the MUNers in the world, they wouldn't be able to-" Saahil's speech was cut short as he was bashed in the head by Rishabh, another MUNer. He came along to help Vedant with about twenty others.

"Well," commented Raymond, "You guys are pretty fast to respond to calls. I'm guessing more are coming?"

Right when another group attempted to join the fight, Andy destroyed the group of MUNers with his trusty pencil, and Rafferty followed the other's example with his own fists. Sri Ram simply ate his popcorn with Raymond.

"Oh," said Vedant who was standing next to Rishabh who was killed due to a stray pencil throw, "You're a mundie. Isn't that right, Rafferty?" Rafferty simply stared back in silence. "I didn't know a mundie could be so strong."

Saahil showed his blonde hair and blue eyes once again. "Let me show you the power of a true Aryan!" His faggotry levels skyrocketed even with his pseudo-intellectual powers active. "I hope you're proud, master Hitler!" Saahil drew closer to Vedant, clearly aiming to kill Vedant himself.

"_POST HOC!_" Vedant yelled as he ripped his pants off and threw them at Saahil. _Come on, _Vedant thought, _I need your help now!_ In a swoop of fresh air, a familiar furry rammed into Saahil and allowed Vedant to hop on his back. Glad to see Justama, Vedant sighed in relief.

"Who knows what powers Saahil picked up?" Vedant asked rhetorically. "I'm glad you came when you did."

"Don't worry," Justama assured, "I sensed you used post hoc, and called Gabriel as well. Most of the MUNers should be fine."

"You really think Gabriel can handle it?"

"I'm sure of it. The Ogre Lord has beaten mightier foes." As the two soared through the sky hoping to get to safety, they heard a loud ringing noise. It seemed to be something spinning out from below. It was getting closer.

"Shit!" shouted Vedant, "Dodge that thing!" Justama dodged and strayed in the sky, but it seemed the object wouldn't get off their tail.

"Goddamnit! I don't know what I can do, Vedant! It's some homing shell!" They couldn't keep up with the shell. "Wait a minute." They paused for a second.

"Justama, what the hell are you doing?! Don't stop!"

"Hey, fuck you, man! You still didn't pay me for any of the trips I gave you! Hell, nobody ever pays me!"

"Whatever, we're going to die if you don't fly quickly!" The view from the high clouds seemed to get even more intimidating as the shell came nearer.

"It's not even aiming for me, you ungrateful cunt! The shell head is coming for you! It was swaying in the direction of your head when your were squirming around!"

"What the hell? You were acting all nice before! Why the sudden change? Damn, those llama hormones..."

"You're an asshole, Vedant!" Justama yelled these few words as he let Vedant slip off his back. It seemed Vedant was falling towards hell, and the pain of the impact with the shell Vedant took had him screaming in pain as his voice echoed through the sky. He felt the cushion of something squishy. It was Saahil. Upon hearing the yell of Saahil, Vedant blacked out. The last thing he saw when he looked to the side was the bodies of hundreds of dead MUNers.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	11. Chapter 11

Whitney Temperatures

Detention Squad

Birth of Faggotry

Chapter 14

"Remember, Saahil," said Saahil's autistic grandfather, "you are a true intellectual. You will _always _be a true intellectual."

"Yes, Grandpa!" said Saahil. Then his grandpa died. He remembered his grandfather's words as he tried to stand up from the pavement. Even after he learned the truth, he still believed those words. Yes, that terrible truth.

It was a normal Saturday afternoon in the last few day of Saahil's 120th year at Whitney, and he had just discovered the internet.

"This is so amazing!" yelled Saahil, "I can learn so many cool facts from this 'internet.' Nobody would ever tell lies on the internet!" And so, he went on with fapping to Richard Dawkins quotes on twitter while absorbing all the edginess on the interwebs. He would surely show the school how smart he was after summer break! And so he did. Or at least he thought he did.

Saahil stood at the entrance of the school, ready to show everybody how different and original he was. "Hey, you sheep!" he yelled at his gym classmates, "I bet you don't know about Hitler's war tactics! He didn't start the holocaust! The Jews did! The Jews put Germans in another dimension to steal all of their shoes while they were away! I know because the internet told me so! So, stop having opinions and agree with me!"

Everybody beat the shit out of him. With his nose bloodied and glasses broken, he wanted to research more "facts" on the internet. But before he could, he had to get into another debate. He had to pick a fight with an upperclassman MUNer. Saahil put all his might into one roar, "This is a monarchy! I am better than you due to my knowledge of the interwebs! I bet you listen to crappy pop music! Well I listen to classical music, you losers! Also, I like anime. Japan is best country. You're such a fucking pleb, are you even even Japanese bro?"

The MUNers stared at Saahil for a few seconds, then turned to talk to each other.

"I think we have to break it to him," whispered one.

"It's not going to be me. I don't want to have the faggotry busters on campus," muttered another.

One man stepped in front of them. "Fine!" he asserted, "I'll do it!" Jason, the top delegate for the MUNers, had experience in breaking elitist assholes.

"What do you want with me, you disgusting liberal?" asked Saahil.

"Blimey, Saahil, didn't you ever wonder where your grandfather learned it all?" Jason inquired.

Saahil was taken aback due to Jason's lack of aggression. "What are you talking about?"

"You're a faggot, Saahil."

Utter silence broke the field until Saahil got the words out of his mouth. "I-I'm a what?"

"A faggot. And a thumping good one, I'd wager. Don't worry, they have a special school for you. Artesia High School of Dickcraft and Assery."

"But I don't want to go! I want to stay here and spread my T.J. Kirk gospel to the plebs!"

"Goddamnit, kid. If you don't want to go, then just turn yourself in. Ya got no choice, faggot."

Saahil slapped Jason with retard strength, but to no avail as Jason quickly untied Saahil's shoes. Saahil looked down at his untied shoes that were never untied before. "I-I'll get you! I'll kill all of the MUNers!" screamed Saahil as he ran away from campus crying.

"Are you going to the school?" asked Jason from afar.

"NO!" screamed Saahil.

"OK then!" yelled Jason. "Have it your way! To me, my MUNers!" Jason's fellow MUNers swarmed from all directions and ravaged Saahil's anus before he could run away. Quicky turned into the faggotry busters, he went to the district prison for 500 autist years. During this time, Saahil's faggotry only grew.

Saahil recounted these moments after he lifted his body up and stared at Vedant's corpse. _Those 500 autist years_, Saahil thought, _almost felt like a whole 5 months. I'll never forget it. _And he never did.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	12. Chapter 12

Whitney Temperatures

Detention Squad

Birth of Faggotry

Chapter 15

"This is quite a show. I'm glad you took me back here, Del Que."

"Yeah. I like turtles."

Del Que and his boss were watching the total destruction of the city from the roof of the main school building in Whitney. The scenery filled with dark clouds paraded by rain and thunder demolished the peaceful atmosphere of a couple hours ago.

"Anyway, wanna rob movie tickets?" asked Del Que, "I hear the new Batman is out. It's called Batman: This Character Does Not Have Enough Reboots."

The boss thought considerably hard for a few seconds. "Nah. I'm-"

"Oh shit!"

The blonde bearded wonder was back, and was whiter than ever. "Del Que!" he shouted in fury, "Robbing our gatorade supply wasn't enough for you? You had to summon a bunch of turtles to destroy the city as well?"

"No," Del Que responded, "You have to believe me. I'm not the one that caused all of this!"

Rob inched closer. "Yeah, right! Even if Niggaless isn't here with me, I've improved! My bitch count has reached 1,000, and I've trained every single one of them!"

Del Que gave a nervous look to his boss, who was idly sitting on edge of the roof. However, he concluded he could not convince this revenge driven fiend. Rob raised his hand in Del Que's general direction.

"_Bitch Storm_!" he yelled. It seemed as if nothing happened.

"Ha!" said Del Que, "You're such a-" Del Que was stopped when he saw a huge cloud of bitches looming over the city, and it looked looked as if they were headed for where _he_ was.

Del Que quickly got into position. "You think this will be enough, Rob? Let me show the power of a _real _nigga!" From head to toe, Del Que's veins bulged as his body enlarged. His mouth grew wider and his nose sharper along with the almost instantaneous appearance of hair all over his body. When Del Que spoke, his voice matched that of Biggie Smalls. "Let's see your bitch storm match my niggamation! Don't get in my way, Albin!"

The whirlpool of bitches dashed towards Del Que's position. Hurriedly, the boss and Rob got off the roof to a safer distance. At a speed mach 20, Del Que faced the bitch storm head on. Punching and jabbing the pool of bitches in mid air, he knocked off about one hundred of them in the first minute, but the storm seemed to grow larger. The wind was becoming more fierce as it seemed to draw Del Que in. It simultaneously destroyed nearby rubble and the roof he was standing on beforehand. But as Del Que got into a deeper part of the storm, the bitches grabbed him with all their might. No matter how strong Del Que was, he could not get through all the holds of the remaining 900 bitches fast enough. He was dragged into the howling and thrashing storm. Before he knew it, he was in the center where his body felt like it was disintegrating and burning with sharp cuts all over his body. Down for the count, Del Que fell hard to the ground as the storm calmed down at Rob's command.

Rob stood next to Del Que's severely injured body. "How foolish of you, Del Que," chuckled Rob, "What on Earth made you think going in to the storm was a good idea?" Little did Rob know that the boss calculated his next plans already.

"Well," the boss sighed, " Doesn't look like he's going to hear my voice this time. I guess you just have to do some things yourself." The boss tore off his own shirt and jacket to reveal his 30 pack. He had a tattoo in dark green ink labeled "Aldrich N."

Rob stared at the tattoo in absolute horror. "Aldrich? You're the _real _heir of the Nocom gatorade shipping family?"

"That's right," said Aldrich in his squeaky voice, "You can't trust too many people these days. But, what the hell. I guess I don't really need to hide it any more." With blinding speed, Aldrich dashed towards the white boy, who failed to counter. With two jabs from Aldrich's right elbow, Rob had the wind knocked out of him. A final kick from Aldrich broke Rob's stylish black glasses and knocked him unconscious.

Aldrich turned around only to find a bloody and battered Del Que standing with his last remaining strength. "What the hell?" gasped Del Que, "You lied to me! I thought we were friends."

Aldrich closed his eyes and spoke with a tone of disgust. "I thought you knew I was too edgy to have friends. You are merely my employee. And you will continue to be, as long as you cannot find your dick."

"Goddamnit," muttered Del Que as he fell on to his knees and reverted out of his niggamation, "You can bet your ass I'll try my best to find my dick now!"

"Good luck with that. Now, if you could kindly stand up to join me at the vending machine…."

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	13. Chapter 13

Whitney Temperatures

Detention Squad

Birth of Faggotry

Chapter 16

Saahil stood up and faced the Chinese turtle lord. "Thanks for the pseudo," he said, "but I need to go now to find the rest of the MUNers. I won't stop until I kill every last one of them."

Raymond chuckled in amusement, "Very well. I won't hold you to this area. Frankly, your faggotry should be spread throughout the world."

Saahil took off from the abandoned street and headed back to Whitney on Shoemaker Avenue and left Raymond, Sriram, Rafferty, and Andy to stare at the corpses of the MUNers. Raymond stood up from his prickly chair to grab some more popcorn. "Ah," he muttered, "There goes a true hero. I'm sure he will go far in preaching Hitler's great tales to the people of America. _Wir müssen die Plebs zu töten._"

"Wait, Sir Raymond," Andy objected, "I think I want to experiment with Saahil a bit more. His pseudo-intellectual powers could make a great yeast."

"Not a chance," Raymond snapped, "The powers I inflicted are not your playthings. They are mine."

Sriram and Rafferty stood idly by as Andy and Raymond stared each other down. As swiftly as he could, Andy pulled out his pencil launcher and from his lab coat. "I've got you now, Raymond!" he yelled as he swerved to the side and shot 20 pencils per second consecutively in a blitz.

"Ah! Shit!" One of the pencils hit Raymond's right eye.

"Now what, O great turtle lord?" Andy dashed in front of Raymond to make his eye wound even worse. What seemed to be a whimper from Raymond turned into a mischievous chuckle.

"Oh, Andy," whispered Raymond with his eye suddenly intact again, "You're so gullible. You see, I have found out your only weakness, Andy. Molestation. Comrade Gabe, take care of this nerd."

"What?" inquired a bewildered Andy, "Gabe? What, have you brainwashed the Ogre Lord?"

Raymond took his seat again. "Yes, I have. Although I don't know how long the bind will last. Oh, well. This should be fun."

Andy turned around to see the face of Gabe with an abnormally large grin uplifting his glasses. Without thinking, Andy slapped Gabe and pulled out a spray from his left pocket. "Let's see you handle this, Gabe! Osama's Special Scent! It carries the smell of public restrooms!"

Despite Andy's efforts, Gabe waved away the smell projected by the perfume. "There is nothing the Ogre Lord has not sniffed!" shouted the brainwashed Gabe.

Gabe's sudden burst of rage yielded a cloud of smoke around his general area. His skin turned extremely dark green and his body bulked up like an inflatable doll. With one mighty roar, he revealed his sharper teeth and slanted eyes along with froot-loop ears.

Andy fell to the ground as Gabe ripped off his clothes. "Your anal virginity is mine!" yelled Gabe as he pumped into Andy with the force of 10 elephants. To Andy, it felt as though a giant metal totem pole was being shoved inside his anus. The painful pounding seemed to last for hours on end, and when Gabe finally finished, he turned around and bowed to Raymond while leaving Andy to bleed his ass out.

"You have done well, Gabe," Raymond announced, "I think this should serve as an example for any others who plan to betray me. Next time, we won't be so gentle."

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	14. Chapter 14

Whitney Temperatures

Detention Squad

Birth of Faggotry

Chapter 17

Brayan dragged Jesus by the neck of his shirt towards the north gate of Whitney High School.

"Stop it, you fucking faggot! I want to lick this screenshot of Palutena a bit longer," said Jesus while being dragged.

"You're not a _true _Messican, Jesus! Real Messicans only care about 3D chicas!" asserted an annoyed Brayan. "Well, I can only hope we'll find the turtle guy here. Have you seen Jay and Noah yet?"

"Nope."

On top of the almost undisturbed school's Mac Lab were Sriram, Rafferty, and Raymond. "That there," said Sriram, "is Brayan. He's the god of the Messican people. The curly haired Messican person he's dragging is Jesus. He plays Smash a lot."

Raymond inched forward on the building's roof to get a better view of the two Messicans that were one or two miles north away from him. "I see," Raymond muttered, "Hey, do you think Hitler liked Messicans?"

"Probably not," Sriram responded.

Raymond thought hard for a moment while looking up at the dark, thunderous sky. "Very well, then. Rafferty, just solo the two."

On his master's orders, the Chinese gangster hopped off the high roof and then dashed

towards. Brayan and Jesus. In a matter of seconds, Rafferty approached the two Detentioneers. By the time Brayan and Jesus looked up to see this mysterious adversary, Rafferty had already pulled out a gold 2 mm Kolibri pistol from his white vest. At this notice, Jesus put down his 3DS for once to look up at the approacher.

"Get out," Rafferty warned, "Hitler did not like Messicans."

"He probably wasn't too fond of Asian gangster kids either," Jesus replied.

At this comment Rafferty aimed at Jesus' head. "You infidel! I was actually going to let you go and tell Raymond some sob story, but you two have crossed the line!"

"Ah," Brayan remarked, "Raymond. Of course. That _tortuga _bastard."

"You do not speak of my master that way!" shouted Rafferty as he pulled the trigger on Brayan. However, Rafferty did not know of Brayan's special hair gel. Brayan's spike hair stretched down and deflected the bullet faster than imaginable.

Reacting even quicker, Rafferty slid on the rocky ground and reached into his vest to pull out a katar knife. His attack, however, was halted when Jesus summoned Marth to grab Rafferty away.

"_Perfect Pivot_!" yelled Jesus as Marth stepped and turned to throw Rafferty off. With Brayan's far spread spiky hair, Jesus, and Marth surrounding Rafferty, the Chinese mafia man was cornered. Trapped, Rafferty hesitated to calculate his next move.

"Okay, niño," started Brayan, "Why do you work for this green as hell _pendejo_, anyway?"

Rafferty, aggravated at his cornering, decided to talk for the hell of it. "You wouldn't understand. I owe him a great debt."

"What kind of debt?" Brayan continued questioning.

"I was sent to district prison one time. I was a real nigga, man, but the district didn't like the idea of a Chinese kid being a nigga. And so, they put me behind bars. Raymond was the only one who stood up for me. He said I didn't have to be a nigga to be a nigga."

"That's pretty deep."

"Yeah. But not as deep as the hole in your chest will be!" Rafferty had seen that Brayan weakened his stance and took advantage of the opening. He stabbed him with his withdrawn katar knife. With a groan, a bloodied Brayan fell to the ground.

"You bastard!" Jesus had tried to use Captain Falcon for a swift falcon kick, but Rafferty had seen through this stupid miscalculation. With one jump, Rafferty leaped into the air avoiding Falcon and struck Jesus on his head. Had it not been for Jesus' curly hair, his injury would have been fatal. Still, it knocked Jesus out cold.

The famous Rafferty took out his turtle shell pager to call his master. "Mission accomplished," he informed through the speaker, "Do you want me to take care of Noah and Jay as well?"

Raymond responded through the speaker, "No. Let them come to us. For now, I want to experiment on the bodies of Jesus and Brayan."

"Yes, sir."

And with that, Rafferty made his way back to Raymond.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	15. Chapter 15

Whitney Temperatures

Detention Squad

Birth of Faggotry

Chapter 18

_Never again_, he kept thinking to himself, _never again will I have my ass beat so badly. _The proud, loudmouth Min Jae was hiding in his closet sucking in his thumb as he was still mentally scarred from his little "incident" with Aldrich. Completely unaware of the mass turtlecide occurring outside his house, he went towards the door to approach the vigorous knocking. Inching closer to the door, he was bewildered at the sudden stop of the knocking.

"Um…," muttered Min Jae, "Oka-"

With a loud crash, Min Jae's door burst open. The last thing he saw before his vision faded was a large, rainbow hand reaching for his face. When he woke up, he found himself next to an odd looking ballerina with pink, flamingo styled clothing. "Mr. Spratt?" inquired Min Jae.

"Uh…Hello, Min Jae," greeted an uncertain Spratt. They both looked up to see Noah, Jay, and Justama standing in front of them. They were in the quiet Norwalk Avenue surrounded by thick bushes.

"Look at this shit," said Noah, "They replaced the Bill Gates statues with statues of Raymond with a Hitler stache." He pointed at at least twenty of them.

"Which is why we're here," neighed Justama the llama, "I was flying over the school just to pick up some cash from the corpses of the dead MUNers, but then I saw Raymond and Rafferty tie up Brayan and Jesus. I don't need any fascism when I can't even manage to get a proper paycheck."

Jay the neckbeard approached the two tied up as well. "Exactly," he said, "Which is why we need all the help we can get."

"Okay, okay," said Mr. Spratt, "I can see why you tied up Min Faggot, but why me?"

"Because I wanted to," Jay responded.

Mr. Spratt quickly got flustered. "Wait. What about Vedant?"

Justama seemed agitated by this question. "Fuck that shit. I let that motherfucker die."

"Enough!" Noah yelled. "We have to come up with some kind of plan!" The others nodded in agreement.

"Yeah," Jay said. "We can each counter one person in the Raymond Squad and Saahil. Min Jae will take Saahil after we unlock his latent pseudo-intellectual powers. Noah. You, Justama, and me will take Sriram. And finally, Spratt, you take Raffertoast alone. Then, we all go for Raymondo."

"You're a faggot Jay," everyone said in unison.

"Alright," said Justama, "I think I have it all figured out now. We can each counter one person in the Raymond Squad and Saahil. Min Jae will take Saahil after we unlock his latent pseudo-intellectual powers. Noah. You, Justama, and me will take Sriram. And finally, Spratt, you take Rafferty alone. Then, we all go for Raymond."

"That's a great plan, Justama!" Noah said. "That way, we can quickly and efficiently take everyone out in one fell swoop!"

"But I just said that!" exclaimed Jay.

"Yeah, but Justama said it better," sassed Noah. "Now, let's get this out of the way. Justama, do the stuff that is basically all you're required for."

Justama nodded and began to walk towards Min Jae while chanting in the ancient llama language. Min Jae began to glow and eventually exploded with light as inspirational music played. His eyes became the chinkiest they'd ever been. He grew gigantic and boomed in his booming voice that still sounded annoying as fuck, "I'm coming for you, Saahil."

Min Jae left the street as he finally untied the ropes. Noah, untying Mr. Spratt, said, "We should go, too."

Justama replied, "Wait, why did we tie them up in the first place if we were gonna let them go right after?"

Nobody cared enough to answer him. "We gotta hurry for the curry, murry," Jay said.

And so they went to attempt to stop the forces of Hitler Raymond.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	16. Chapter 16

Whitney Temperatures

Detention Squad

Birth of Faggotry

Chapter 19

"If only Clark were here, he'd know what to do."

"I'm going to mutilate you when I get out of this cell."

"Yeah, _if _you get out of your cell."

Both Brayan and Jesus were trapped in two different cells underground after their incident with Rafferty. The room was almost pitch black, and Brayan's wound was amateurly attended to. The metal bars of the cell were extremely close together and even tougher than Mike Tyson's teeth. Directly above them was the MAC lab building, where Raymond could be heard confronting Shea. Even from the underground, their voices were clear.

"What the hell is this?" inquired the ginger.

"I don't see what you're so angry about," responded Raymond, "This _is _going according to your contract."

"Bullshit. You know damn well that the one who's going to pay for this damage to the school is going to be me. I also didn't authorize you to take the school for yourself."

"I'm letting you live. You should be thankful."

"You fascist dickwad!" Shea screamed, "You are the most arrogant person I've ever met! I'm going to tear up that contract right now and end your maniacal reign!"

"That is, if you get the chance to."

"What do you mean?" Just then, Shea was apprehended by Rafferty. "Rafferty, I swear-"

"Bitch, I'm a gangster. I don't give no fucks." Rafferty forced Shea to turn herself into dust and stuffed her into a bottle.

"Now, we wait," said Raymond, "until the rest come to us."

Just then, one of Raymond's Nazi drones came to his lair and exclaimed, "The self-proclaimed Resistance is on its way to the Hitler chamber!"

"Right on schedule. Sriram! Rafferty! You know what I want you to do," the two ran off into the city as Raymond called Saahil on the turtlephone, "Saahil, I want you to take care of the Resistance. But if you run into Noah and Jay, bring them to me. None of them should really be a match for your pseudo-intellectual powers."

"Fine, douchelick," Saahil replied. "Strawman, AWAY!"

Raymond crossed his spindly legs in his Swastika-shaped throne and smiled his smug-ass smile.

Saahil thought the Resistance wouldn't trouble him at all, but he was surely mistaken, as Min Jae took down his Strawman within 0.9 seconds. "Saahil. We meet again."

"Min Jackass!" Saahil replied, "I finally get to beat you up!"

"I see your insulting skills haven't improved at all," Min Jae replied as his eyes grew chinky with energy. Stealing Saahil's power, Min Jae summoned a huge Strawman to crash into Saahil.

"Dang it, he said no one could stand up to me!" Saahil muttered to himself. He yelled, "_Hasty Generalization!_" and trapped Min Jae in a room where he had to conduct surgery upon a patient. Min Jae simply killed the man and returned the Hasty Generalization in order to have Saahil nose explode since he smelled so bad.

"_Masked Man fallacy_! I'm unfamiliar with this pseudo-intellectual prowess, but I do know who Min Jae is, so they can't be the same person!" Saahil shouted in order to separate Min Jae and the pseudo-intellectual manifestation into two different people. Sliding on the marble ground before Saahil could react, Min Jae then ate his double's heart to gain back his powers.

"Let's finish this!" shouted Min Jae as he grew huge with stolen knowledge.

"Of course," said Saahil as he also grew to a gargantuan size.

The two giants clashed in a fury.

"With this power up, I can lift an entire pencil!" yelled Saahil in delight.

"Oh yeah? Well, I can lift up _two _pencils!"

"Shit! How can I match such strength?!"

In a gruesome display of sluggish fists, Min Jae reigned victorious with one last punch to the jaw. "HURDY HURDY HUR!"

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	17. Chapter 17

Whitney Temperatures

Detention Squad

Birth of Faggotry

Chapter 20

Spratt's flamboyantly tight, pink clothing rustled as he walked towards Rafferty right on Shoemaker street.

"So, you," said Rafferty, "created this new Detention Squad?"

"You're goddamn right," responded Spratt.

"I'll give you one chance, Spratt. Walk away."

"And why exactly are you giving me such a generous opportunity?"

"You have blonde hair and blue eyes. A beautiful combination that Raymond would appreciate."

"That's pretty weird, considering Raymond looks nothing like an Aryan or Hitler."

"He will, Spratt, he will. I know all about your _fagbo ballet_, by the way."

"So what? My flamboyancy cannot be comprehended by the mere mortal mind!"

"Can I take that as an offer to battle? Such a shame."

"Yeah. You destroyed the Mac computers! Do you know how much they cost?"

"Get Windows 7, scrub."

"The power of Steve Jobs compels you!" With an ungraceful leap, Spratt hopped right next to Rafferty and poked his eyes.

"Ah! Shit!" Rafferty fell over on the ground as Spratt continued to slap his bony cheeks.

Rafferty saw an opening to grab his katar knife, but Spratt quickly stopped Rafferty's hand in its tracks.

"I'm giving you a referral," declared Spratt.

"Yeah, like that'll work! The school is dead. Plus I'm a gangster. I don't give a fuck."

"What if I told you that I was also a gangster when I was younger?"

"What? Impossible! I'm nothing like you, you ballet performing dickweed!"

"This is the fate of all gangsters! Don't do kids, drugs! Or else, this will happen to _you!_"

"NO! NO!" screamed Rafferty as he clutched his head and groveled in pain.

"That's right," whispered Spratt. "Nighty night, Rafferty,"

"_Stop_!" whimpered Rafferty weakly. "I'm not just a gangster. I'm a nigga, too."

"Oh, right. let's talk about niggas, too. Niggaless was once a nigga, but look at him now. He leads a pathetic existence working for the student council. You're not even a true nigga, anyway. Give up."

"NOOO!" Rafferty fell over. Spratt had broken him.

Spratt simply calmly changed out of his leotard.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	18. Chapter 18

Whitney Temperatures

Detention Squad

Birth of Faggotry

Chapter 21

The chairs in the MPR were cleared out and the smart board on the front wall was broken down.

"I've been waiting for you three," said Sriram a couple feet from the door to the MPR.

"Sriram…" Jay responded, "Why are you doing this?"

"Because Raymond isn't a neckbeard piece of shit like you. Give you an eyepatch with a fedora, might as well call you Neckbeard the Pirate, bitch. Go suck your own dick, you worthless scum. Waste of goddamn space."

Verbally abused, Jay fell to the ground gasping for breath.

"Goddamnit," Justama neighed, "Sriram, you avoided paying me my rightful travel fares the most out of everybody! Well, I guess not as much as Vedant, but he's dead. After we kick your ass, we're going to neuter that turtle lord!" Justama charged forward at Sriram with all his might.

"Justama, no!" yelled Noah who was standing next to a mentally scarred Jay, "It's a trap!"

Right before the impact, Sriram's arm grew approximately three times it's original length. The bash from Sriram's arm sent Justama astray through the air.

"I see," Noah observed, "You can grow your own body parts? How advantageous." Noah began to charge up what seemed to be a regular rainbow fist, and headed towards Sriram.

"You think that's going to work?" Sriram chuckled. Noah quickly dashed backwards before Sriram could expand his arm and shot out skittles to juke Sriram out. Sriram gasped in amazement as the skittles hit him. "Ah! This euphoria. A clever move, Noah. Though not quite as euphoric as a fedora." As soon as Sriram made a step towards Noah, Sriram felt something cut his cheek. A shitty black hat of the faggot calibur.

"Fedoras, huh?" Jay asked rhetorically as he went to grab his thrown fedora back, "Glad you mentioned that." It seemed he recovered from his verbal torture.

"That's an unstable combination, Jay," warned Sriram, "You come off as a bullshite, but you use a fedora that has faggot powers. Use it too much and you might just become a faggot, Jay."

At the words, Jay propelled himself with his leather boots in hopes of burning the shifting Sriram, but his attack failed to register. It seemed as if Sriram disappeared from view altogether, but Jay soon realized this was a false illusion as something strong pulled him to the ground.

"So, Sriram, you can minimize yourself, too?" inquired Noah.

"Damn," Justama neighed, "We can barely harm this guy."

"Justama," said Sriram smugly, "Why are you helping these ungrateful assclowns? How many times have _they_ refused to pay the travel price? I'm sure their total is larger than mine."

Jay tried his best to appeal, but it seemed Justama was paying no attention to him. "Don't listen to him! He's trying to get to-"

"Listen to me," Sriram interrupted, "Under Raymond, you could have all the money you like. Just join us and we can be happy forever."

After hesitating to move even an inch, Justama suddenly decided to speak, "He's right, you know! You think I forgot that incident at Nathan's funeral? Well, I got stapled because of you! And by Jhore, no less! Do you know how much that hurts? I didn't even get paid!"

Jay hesitated as he thought Justama was beyond convincing. And sure enough, he was. Justama walked slowly towards Sriram and stood next to him in a declaring manner.

"Well," sighed Noah, "it looks like we need to go against Justama as well."

"There'll be no need for that," Sriram declared, "I'm going to end this right now and bring the furry back to Raymond." Sriram grew exceptionally large in a matter of seconds. His entire body crushed the roof of the MPR and towered over the two other resistance members. With just a kick, Sriram crashed his foot onto both of the Detentioneers at once. The MPR was nothing more than rubble at this point with Noah and Jay lying unconscious on the marble floor.

With another crash from underground, Raymond arose from the marble floor and stared slyly at both Sriram and Justama.

"Sriram," Raymond whispered to Sriram, "why is this furry standing next to you like he's your friend?" Without waiting for a response, Raymond mercilessly smacked the unexpecting Justama into the rubble. Without so much as a groan of pain, Justama's blood poured through the cracks. He could only manage a few words while lying helplessly.

"What the-" Justama was cut off as he was beaten by Sriram until he was nothing but a stain on the ground. Justama was dead with no evidence of him ever even existing. Erased.

"Good," said Raymond, "Congratulations on beating these fodder."

Sriram stepped a bit closer to Raymond. "Thank you, master. Though, I'm afraid I can't congratulate _you._" In the blink of an eye, Sriram unleashed a faggotry needle from his pocket and stabbed Raymond in the neck with it, leaving him to cough violently on the ground. Raymond's green blood was splattering the surroundings with every cough. Like Jesse, Raymond's hybrid frequency of both bulshittery and intellectualism made him more vulnerable to faggotry. A faggotry virus would spread quickly throughout the body of this frequency. Different frequencies without a pseudo ingredient would not mix well. Thus, becoming deadly when injected unnaturally into the body. "Goodbye, Raymond. It was a good run. It truly was. But I knew I had to kill you when I first met you. Ever since you stole Justin's jacket, my suspicions were rising quickly. I knew just how sick and demented you were all along, though. Leaving the toilet seat open, texting while driving, and using public restrooms. You vile piece of shit. I can't let you dominate the world. I'm going to fix all the damage you've done. Well, most of it. I didn't kill Jay and Noah. However, I did kill that other faggot. Don't RIP in peace, Justama."

Sriram slowly walked away from the scene, content with his new plans. His strategy, however, seemed to be ruined as Raymond rose from the ground unharmed. Sriram froze with shock when he turned around.

"How the hell are you not dead?"

"I knew you would pull this shit, Sriram." Raymond revealed the hard, green turtle skin that covered his neck wound.

"Raymond, you sick fascist!"

"I am the one that shall surpass Hitler! You should have known this petty trick wouldn't have worked. I knew all along you were planning something, Sriram. I just waited for you to act it all out because I thought it would be interesting. Now, goodbye. I implanted a poison that would activate as soon as you used your powers within you. You'll soon die."

"Ha. Ya dun goofed, Ray-Ray. I knew all along that you'd try to poison me. Which is why I extracted the poison from my body."

"Ha ha. I knew that you knew that I put the poison in your body, so just to be safe, I put even more into your body."

"Ha ha ha! I knew that you knew that I knew of your poison, so I removed the poison again."

"HA HA HA HA! I knew that you knew that I knew that you knew about the poison, so I put even more in you!"

"HAHAHAHAHA! I knew that-"

"That's why I did this."

Raymond blasted a turtle shell straight at Sriram's chest before he could extend the struggle. Falling with a huge crash, Sriram took one last good look at Raymond before his vision turned black and the taste of blood covered his essence.

"The traitors all end up the same, Sriram."

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	19. Chapter 19

Whitney Temperatures

Detention Squad

Birth of Faggotry

Chapter 22

Raymond reached into his pocket and looked at his Chinese watch as he heard a large bang. He moved to the vicinity of the north entrance to see the cause of the bang.

"Right on time," said Raymond, "I think I'll have some fun."

"Raymond! I've come for thee!" shouted a battered and bruised Mr. Day. "Thine tyranny over the school hath cometh to an end!"

"Day, you truly are a faggot," said Raymond, shaking his head in disapproval. "Do you truly believe you can defeat me after countless others have tried and failed?"

"Tis you who shall fail, o vile one!" screamed Mr. Day. "For I have already defeated thine many turtles which plagued the land!"

"Nobody cares, bitch."

"_Fist of the south entrance! Ignite!"_

In a humongous flash of light, a golden fist that appeared to be ablaze with bright flames appeared south of Raymond. Trying to cancel this giant fist out, Raymond summoned his turtle shell shield from the ground. It rose up almost as fast as the fist came, but it was all in vain. The golden fist easily pierced through the shield and struck Raymond. The turtle lord felt the heat of the sun from the impact and fell immediately to the ground.

"I murdered about a hundred of your kind in the Cold War." Mr. Day spat on the ground as he left Raymond to bleed.

"It-hrnghgh-won't be that easy, Jeff Day. GABE! Quick! Go!" shouted the turtle god.

The Ogre Lord dashed out from the rubble as soon as his name was called. He yelled in fury as he was already in his ogre state. The Ogre Lord charged at Day, but Day's physical strength far exceeded that of Gabe's even when bruised.

"Gabe! Wake up! Thou art one of mine top students! Thou'rt the Lord of Ogres! Set an example for thy children."

Gabe simply yelled, "I will take your anal virginity!"

Raymond squealed in delight, "Yes! Gabe! Show him your Ogre strength!"

"I guess I'm going to have to hurt thee," Day sighed. Day's hands began to glow in this instant. "Let me show you the _glow_. I am the last dragon."

All of a sudden, Gabe stopped in his tracks before both he and Day could land a punch.

"What are you doing, Gabe?" Raymond inquired, "You have a job to do!"

"No…," Gabe whispered, "The person whose anal virginity I shall take…...IS YOU!"

Surprised at Gabe's sudden breakthrough from the trance spell, Raymond just barely escaped getting his pants ripped off by Gabe. Gabe roared and his onion army was called to his side. The little green onions took off their pants at Gabe's orders. "We will all take your anal virginity. Simultaneously."

At that instant, Gabe and Day were joined by seemingly hundreds of police cars. Their sirens were deafening in the Whitney rubble. The many voices of the policemen were drowned out by their own cars.

"Put your hands behind your back and put your pants back on! You rapists and murderers are all under arrest!" they ordered.

"_ENOUGH_!" yelled Ray Ray the great and powerful. He killed all of the surrounding policemen with a single sliding turtle shell and Gabe was rendered unconscious in it's path. Their blood splattered all over the avenue, dousing the Raymond statues in red. The turtle lord's anger transformed him completely. He grew a Hitler stache through utter will and his green, scaly skin was revealed. A hard turtle shell enveloped his back. His eyes became the swastika, which was also was implanted onto his black, turtleneck shirt.

"You shall all die!" screamed Raymond in the most Chinese way possible.

Mr. Day, seeing Raymond's disgusting stache, grew a moustache of his own. The last dragon charged up his own glow and set his sights on the Hitler Chinese turtle man.

"You fascist dickweed! I'll show you '_MURICAN_ freedom and justice! _PATRIOT PUNCH!_" Day's non-American accent was gone.

Raymond was engulfed in red, white, and blue as his shell exploded off of his body and the ground beneath him was overwhelmed with justice. This aura was sent deep in to Raymond's stomach.

"Mein Fuhrer! Please forgive me!" screamed Raymond as he disintegrated into nothingness. Gabe got up at the sound of this madness.

"It's over! We did it!"

But Mr. Day didn't look too happy when he saw the robotic turtle shell that was left behind beep. "No, Gabe…."

"What?"

"It was a decoy…"

Back at Raymond's prison underneath the old MAC lab, Noah and Jay were once again with Brayan and that one asshat that we don't want to mention. "If Clark were here, he'd know what to do."

"Shut the fuck up!" Noah, Jay, and the asshat screamed in unison.

"We don't need the skater fag anyway," Jay said as his neckbeard he mentally forced his neckbeard to become a hand and pull a key out of his fedora. "We better get the hell out here._"_

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	20. Chapter 20

Whitney Temperatures

Detention Squad

Birth of Faggotry

Chapter 23

"Well, damn. I should've done that in the first place." Jay's neckbeard assisted in opening the cell doors, leading Jesus, Brayan, and Noah to escape out with him at last.

"What do you think that _tortuga_ bastard's doing up there?" Brayan asked.

"Go back to sucking Clark's dick," Jesus responded.

They made their way aimlessly forward in the darkness until they reached a rope with light coming out above it. They climbed up only to see the entire ground ravaged and an exhausted Gabe.

"Hey," said Jay, "Did you guys take care of him?" After Jay asked this, he noticed a glint of darkness in the eyes of Gabe.

"Huh," whimpered the Ogre Lord, "I guess not. Day left to sell his Powerade to survivors, by the way. He stopped giving a shit about Raymond. He's too American to deal with foreigners."

Over the rubble stood Raymond alive and well, and with a hint of Hitler stache beneath his nose.

"You're exhausted, aren't you?" Raymond chuckled, "That decoy really did the trick."

"How did you create such a perfect decoy?" Noah inquired.

"Andy created it for me before his anus got devastated. It was a near perfect model artistically. All I had to do was insert my turtle sperm into it to make it almost as powerful as the real me."

Without warning, Jesus jumped with assistance from Mario with the intention of toppling Raymond from overhead. Simultaneously, Brayan's spiky as hell hair was extending and rushing towards Raymond from behind, and Jay tipped his fedora in anticipation.

With a single shell spin, Raymond blocked off Brayan and battered Mario and Jesus in one swoop. Surprised, Brayan tripped over on a stray rock and fell unconscious.

"_Noah_," said a voice.

"What? Nathan?" Noah gasped, looking down at his protractor.

"_Noah, I need you to believe in me. Believe in me to activate the rainbow fist's true potential._"

"But I don't even know jack shit about you or what you do! I don't talk to strangers." screamed Noah, "How am I supposed to believe?!"

"_Then I shall tell you all about what the hell I did all day_," said Nathan. "_I… I… I… actually don't know what I did. Something about studying or some shit…_"

"Nerd," said Noah. "How is any of that shit gonna help-" Noah's protractor began to gleam and there was a ludicrously loud explosion. Everyone turned to look as Noah's Rainbow Fist became even brighter and more powerful than before. The simple acknowledgement of Nathan's existence had strengthened their bond enough.

Noah flew to Raymond propelled by his euphoria and smacked Raymond as hard as he could with his 99 cents protractor. After the astonishingly loud impact, Raymond recoiled backwards on the building and puked rainbows.

"Turtle Lord Raymond. You and your forefathers have devastated the battles of this world. And now, you shall pay the ultimate price!" Just as Noah was about to swing for another blow, Raymond's Hitler stache grew to an enormous size and pushed Noah backwards, making him sneeze uncomfortably with facial hair strands all over his face.

"I do not like hurting fellow East Asians," Raymond whispered, "Beg for forgiveness, and I will give you boba."

However, another interruption was going to make it's way towards Raymond. A familiar man with a flamboyant pose jumped on top of the building where Raymond and Noah were positioned and kicked the Chinese Turtle Lord. Barely flinching from the kick to the sides, Raymond saw Min Jae of Chinky Chinka appear beside Spratt and yell in Raymond's ears to further distract him.

"Spratt! Min Jae!" Jay exclaimed, "You're faggots, but we need all the help we can get!"

The Ogre Lord was standing alongside Jay while thinking of a way to take Raymond's anal virginity. His thoughts proved to be quite sluggish, however, as Raymond quickly took down Min Jae with a single swipe of his hands.

"Still standing there, Gabe?" Raymond laughed as he finished tearing Min Jae a new asshole, "It's useless! I've lost my anal virginity a long time ago!"

"What?!" Gabe exclaimed, "But how?!"

"I lost it to a better man. Your father Shrek, the previous Ogre Lord."

"Goddamnit! Dad always _did _get the bitches… and the Chinese Turtle people."

Spratt put on a different attire while Gabe was staring at Raymond in shock. Spratt leaped in the air while changing into a short skirt and landing on top of Raymond.

"Ah!" Raymond screamed, "No!"

As Spratt molested Raymond's face, Jay threw his fedora at the swift Raymond who was running around with Spratt on his head. Raymond managed to avoid most of the damage from the fedora with only a cut on his cheek.

"This is useless," Raymond sighed after pushing Spratt off of his head, "You guys are no fun anymore." In a flash of yellow light, Raymond transformed himself in Nazi attire. His swastika patterned clothing glowed with fury, and his moustache metamorphosis was complete. In a dash, Raymond smacked every single resistance member with his glove, making their cheeks red with pain.

"_Auschwitz!"_ Raymond yelled. At these words the ground beneath the resistance shook violently, and a black vortex formed around the opposing force. It seemed an entire camp was forming around them. A broken and battered one, at that. When the seemingly erie dimension finished forming around them, Raymond's voice suddenly boomed as if on a loudspeaker.

"Good day, gentlemen. It seems you'll be spending the rest of your lives in this concentration camp."

No matter how hard any of the resistance tried to break through, they couldn't budge the black vortex. Even Mr. Spratt's flamboyant kicks couldn't break through it.

"Goddamnit," said a bruised Jesus, "How the hell are we going to get out of here?"

"There might be a way," Gabe responded uncertainly.

"What is it?" inquired Noah as the resistance stood beside him.

Gabe hesitated to speak, but he decided there was no other choice. "Let's just say I know somebody. Somebody powerful enough to break this camp. You see, Nazi spells like these require somebody with a special groove to break. I have just the person in mind. But after that, I'm dead. I won't have any power left."

"Then do it, faggot," said Jesus.

"You know, I'll be gone forever, until the writers change their minds."

"Yeah. Now fucking do it, you cunt."

"I'm just trying to-"

"Yes. We know. Now do it or I'll drive my dick up your spine."

"Okay! Okay! This guy I'm trying to get to has been pretty mentally scarred. He went to the measures of escaping to another dimension to get out of his past. Dimensional communication is an Ogre ability, but it takes up all my power. I'll probably die after a few minutes."

Gabe concentrated deeply as his eyes began to lose their color. He looked up as his fell to his knees.

"What's going on?" Noah wondered.

_"B-BALLIA 12,_" Gabe chanted.

After a long moment of silence, Gabe pulled a DELL laptop out of his ass and handed it to Jesus.

"What is this for?" Jesus asked.

"I performed the dimensional chant, now all that's left is another medium. You play lots of viddie games, right?"

"Yeah, but only Smash, bitch."

"Well, whatever. You fit the category required better than anybody here. Acquainted deeply with viddie games, but not so much with real life. Except Jay, since he's an antisocial bitch. If this works, I might even survive!"

As the shitty DELL laptop booted up, Gabe pointed towards an icon that kept blinking. It appeared to be a number "34." When Jesus clicked on it, the computer floated into the air and summoned a huge gust.

"It accepted you," Gabe whispered, "Now hand it to me."

"Whatever."

Gabe looked at the screen blankly for a few seconds, until a dark figure appeared in the screen. His voice could be heard echoing as the figure talked to Gabe.

"Gabe," the figure said in a deep and mysterious voice, "You promised not to contact me. How are my sons Sean, Deshawn, Shawn, Hoopz, and African Shaniqua doing over there on Earth?"  
"They're doing fine. I'm sorry, but it was necessary to contact you. We're in some deep shit."

"It involves fighting some foreigner, don't it, boi? I told you not to call me, let alone for fights. I promised I would never do anything like that again."

"Please. Do you want to see Earth face another disaster?"

"Of course I don't. Which is why I don't look at it no more."

"But imagine all the lives that could be lost-"

"Don't talk to me about loss, boi! Do you know what they took from me, asshole? Everything! The Great B-Ball Purge of 2014 took everything from me. They separated me from my sons and killed my wife. Worst of all, they banned basketball! I don't ever wanna look at that shithole Earth again! Me and my special kicks will never get to touch another basketball court again! Those assholes Michael Jordan and Lebron sold out to the district assisted in massacring every other B-Ball star there ever was except for me! I thought they were my friends. I'm the last B-Ball star alive that hasn't sold out to district pantyhoes!"

"I know banning basketball was a cruel move, but that's exactly why we can't let it happen again! The district has crumbled at the hands of Raymondo of the Turtle Clan. Bill Raabe and Dalley are too busy jacking off to country songs to look out their window and realize that turtles are destroying the world! Gary's probably just running around eating multiversal ice-cream. There are virtually no laws now. Maybe we _can_ play basketball. Maybe we can revive it!"

"I-Is that right? A chance to play basketball again with other people?"

"YES!" Jesus cried, "Now shut the fuck up and get over here!"

The figure arose from the shadows and revealed his face through the laptop. There was #34, Charles Barkley. And Gabe died anyway.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	21. Chapter 21

Whitney Temperatures

Detention Squad

Birth of Faggotry

Chapter 24

As Barkley walked out through the laptop in his basketball clothes, he stared around the camp. Utter darkness. With every step Barkley took, every surrounding member of the Resistance ejaculated due to his sheer groove.

"This should be easy to break," Barkley said as he put on his basketball attire and took out his special, dusty basketball. With one hit, Barkley shattered the vortex and stared straight into the eyes of the Chinese turtle lord. "So you're the one that destroyed the city? Damn Neo-Nazi."  
"Barkley, ma negro!" Gabe's dead body echoed, "Watch out! His turtle metamorphosis is complete! He's ten times as strong as he was when we were facing him."

Raymond's scaly skin glowed under the dark clouds, and his Nazi hat quivered.

"Damn!" Barkley exclaimed as he stared at Raymond's savage appearance, "Get the hell outta here, kids! I'm a bit rusty after not practicing for a year, but I can handle him." Barkley's graying hair drew Raymond's attention, and the Resistance ran on Barkley's orders.

"Ah. Charles Barkley. I see the great B-Ball purge didn't take care of _all_ of you disgusting basketball stars. But no matter. Under me, I shall make sure you die."

"Shut the hell up, you scaly assclown! In true battle, none of this shit matters. I don't two shits about your Nazi obsession, your stupid hat, or your lame stache. Just shut up and jam!"

"Very well," Raymond ran towards Barkley at an increasingly swift speed, but the black slammer saw through his movements. With a wave of Barkley's hands, Raymond was knocked aside and fell on the pavement with a loud thump while the Resistance watched from a safe distance.

"How disappointing," whispered Raymond, "You would have countered that more quickly when you were in your prime."

Taking his basketball into position, Barkley slammed and jammed all around Raymond with blinding motion. With each step he took, he dunked on Raymond's head with his yet extreme strength.

In a daze, Raymond jumped behind a pile of rubble behind Barkley before he could get hit by another dunk. Seeing Barkley run towards him, Raymond webbed across the ground and faked out Barkley with one of his shells while he stole Barkley's signature basketball with the distraction.

"Ha!" chuckled Raymond, "What are you without your precious basketball?

In response, Barkley simply grinned and said, "That ain't my basketball, chump."

Raymond looked down at what he thought was the basketball he stole, but he instead saw a watermelon dripping with orange paint. "What?! A substitution? But how? When?"

"I don't lose track of my balls, kid." The real basketball was in Barkley's hands and in a ready position to jump pass to Raymond's head. The spike battered Raymond and pushed him back down to the ground.

However, before Barkley could make his next move, Raymond crawled up with colorless eyes and yelled, "_Scheibe!" _At these words, Raymond formed a spinning swastika from his hands with a red glow and propelled it at the unexpecting Barkley.

"Ah, fuck!" The swastika was too quick even for Barkley, and it cut him on the chest. Dripping with blood, Barkley dashed again with an even greater fury than before, but Raymond was adapting. His radioactive turtle blood allowed him to see Barkley's repeated movements. Every time after getting within a five foot radius of Raymond, Barkley was slapped aside by Raymond's droopy, scaly skin.

"Oh shit, chicos," Brayan said while spectating the fight with the rest of the Resistance, "Looks like Barkley wasn't the best choice after all. He's getting his assed whooped now. We should have just called Victor."

"Nah," Jay responded, "He'd probably go back to playing League of Lesbians right after receiving out call."

Barkley hesitated for a moment while staring at Raymond's smug face, but he came to a crucial decision. "Well, this is it. For when the game gets tough…." Barkley pulled a small red container from his pocket and popped out what seemed to be an orange pill from it. The container had a label that read, "NEGROIDS: USE IN EMERGENCIES ONLY."

"Ah," Raymond observed, "Negroids. I've heard of those. They'll strengthen you, but you might die in the process after using about two of them. And you die immediately if you use them while not being a real nigga. You must be desperate, Barkley. Using pills and all."

"Don't give me that shit, boi. I ain't just any nigga!"

After taking in five pills, Barkley's wounds seemed to lighten and his eyes grew in a fury. Passes left and right, Raymond couldn't even turn around without being either punched or shot at by an orange ball. After about five minutes of this routine, Raymond fell to the ground, bloodied and bashed.

"Well, Chinese kid, I guess that settles that-" However, Raymond was not quite finished yet. He grabbed Barkley's leg as he was about to walk away.

"It's not that simple, Barkley," laughed a bloody Raymond, "Those pills didn't quite cut it. I can still adapt. Besides, you took like five? What a pain that must have been."

"Not really. And yer dead, nigga," Barkley took twenty more pills and slapped Raymond across the stage. Raymond slid backwards on the ground after that power slap, leaving a trail of green and red blood across his slide.

After another groan of fury, Raymond stood up and smiled once again. "This might get a little huge, Barkley. Whaddya say we get out of this shithole of Earth. Trust me, it won't be able to handle the groove."

"Whatever, chink." With one powerful leap, both Barkley and Raymond propelled themselves into space, millions of miles away from Earth.

The funk allowed Barkley to breathe in space, and Raymond's scaly skin adapted him to the environment.

"Well, Barkley, nobody can hear you scream right now."

"I wouldn't bet on that," said Barkley as he chugged a few more negroids down his mouth, "I'm going to end this." With a powerful gleam of light, Barkley summoned up his basketball to his hands, and the vicinity heated up to an extreme amount. "_CHAOS DUNK!" _

As the ball made contact with Raymond's body, the entire solar system trembled. Even though the distance between them and the Earth was great, it felt like a 20.0 earthquake in there, shaking and destroying the environment with sheer force.

However, even after this display, Raymond was still alive and well, yet deformed with blood streaming down his entire body and his entire figure torn.

"That was a good one, Barkley. Though, I have a little more friends I have up my sleeve that would like to play with you." Raymond pointed his hands in the general direction of Earth, and pulled a small glint of light towards him. As they got closer, it became apparent that there were actually two beams of light headed towards them.

"What?!" Barkley yelled, "Lebron? Jordan? You goddamn sellouts, why are you here?"

"Calm down, Barkley," said Michael Jordan the famed god of the court, "You have kids to look after. We just want to help. You're walking a dangerous path, picking up basketball again and all. Do you really want to leave your kids behind for this?"

"You didn't answer my damn question!" shouted Barkley, "Why are working for Raymond?"

"That's simple," whispered Lebron, "He supports our views on the destruction of basketball. And since we couldn't kill you by ourselves, Barkley, we decided to lend an extra hand. Now, we don't have to kill you if you just walk away from all of this."

"Not a damn chance," Barkley said in a hushed voice, "You abandoned B-Ball, hell, you fucked it in the ass! I'm not going to surrender to the likes of you. You're just here as tools for Raymond to distract me while he regenerates from the ass beating I just gave him."

Simultaneously, Jordan and Lebron pulled out their federal guns and open fired at the exhausted Barkley repeatedly. Each shot pushed Barkley back, gushing out blood from each blow. Each time Barkley tried to step forward, he was bombarded with bullets. Unable to even yell in pain, Barkley stood motionless as he was filled with lead. Raymond, regenerating from the chaos dunk, smiled smugly at Barkley's pain and misery.

Slowly floating away in the vastness of space after Lebron and Jordan stopped firing, Barkley tried to reach for his last few negroids. His bloodied and battered hands touched the container in his pocket and held the last small 30 pills in his hands.

_Damn, _thought for Barkley, _Well… for the sake of my sons touching a basketball again….it's worth it. Goodbye. This might be that last thing I'll do. _

After swallowing the last negroids he had, Barkley stood up to face the three genocide supporters. Barkley was surging with energy, and his eyes were glowing brighter than before. In a wave, Barkley took back control of his basketball and bashed open the skulls of Jordan and Lebron. Their blood and internal organs trailed through the area and splattered onto Raymond's face, who had just regenerated.

It was then that Barkley surpassed the speed of light and distorted time and space with a single jab. "It's survival of the fittest! You either slam with the best... _or jam with the rest! **HOLY**__** DUNK!**_"

Barkley's basketball surpassed the size of the red Sun and crashed into Raymond with surmounting force. The blast of energy made the vicinity implode with a power even greater than before. Now, all the surrounding galaxies felt the power of the dunk, shivering in fear.

The Resistance ejaculated once more at the sheer groove of this last attack.

_ "Kids,"_ Barkley spoke telepathically to the Resistance in his last moments, _"Take care of my sons for me. Even if that turtle bastard still isn't dead, he'll be trapped in the space jam forever." _Barkley disintegrated into nothingness after his job was fulfilled.

"I'm not a kid, you faggot!" screamed the Messican viddie gamer. And with that last note, the Earth's shaking stopped and the turtles wept.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	22. Chapter 22

Whitney Temperatures

Detention Squad

Birth of Faggotry

Chapter 25

The Resistance stared with glee as they saw what seemed to be the end of Raymond. In the outskirts, a broken Rafferty was picking up the bodies of Andy and Sriram in agony when he saw the blast of light that tore apart the legend of the turtles. However, this distress was stopped as heard a mad, familiar laugh. A one with a Chinese accent. It was headed towards the Resistance.

"Hahahah! You need more than a basketball to kill me!" A fucked up Raymond yelled as he was falling back down to Earth. "What are y-"

His speech was stopped with a splat right in front of the Resistance.

"Is he dead?" A confused Brayan asked.

"If he wasn't before, he is now. That fall looked like it hurt," Jesus responded.

"That does not matter. The overlay of the holy dunk has worn off. Raymond's body and soul will be trapped within the space jam," echoed Gabe's voice from his dead corpse.

"How the fuck are you still talking?" inquired Jesus.

"I don't know."

However, it seems the hell that the Resistance faced was not yet over, as the ground beneath them trembled. From a crack in the ground rose a familiar figure. A furry. A llama furry, to be exact.

"Hey. Gabe," said Justama carrying Satan, "I, uh, need to take you to hell. For some reason, your soul didn't pass over."

"No!" Gabe yelled, "Ogres do not go to hell! What, are you wagging your tail for Satan now that you're dead?"

At this response, Justama inched backwards, hoping not to anger Satan. "But you're only half ogre. A quarter if you take into account the fact that Shrek was half god. Even if you were a full blooded ogre, it wouldn't matter, since you didn't take enough people's anal virginity away. A shame, too. If you had fucked Raymond, it would have been just enough. Anyways, all failed ogres belong to Satan."

The voice of Gabe roared as his body flung around like a ragdoll, "I can take your anal virginity even in this state!"

"Yeah, uh, Satan won't like that."

In a fearsome stab with his pitchfork that he stole from Gordon Ramsay, Satan cut through Gabe's spiritually retarded body and dragged him to the crack through which Satan and Justama entered the realm of the living.

Back around Shoemaker, Manav arrived only to find the bodies of his fellow dead MUNers.

"What the hell?" Manav gasped, "These marks on their chests…..A faggot killed them! But what faggot would do such a thing?"

"A faggot that was humiliated by the MUNers!" yelled a voice behind the graphics director, "And I'm going to wipe you out too!" Saahil still had a few bruises from his fight with the super chink Min Jae, but he was faggier than ever now. Now, he could leap over whole ants in a single bound. "What doesn't kill a faggot only makes him stronger!"

Seeing Saahil leap off the ground, Manav quickly pulled out his pirated copy of Photoshop. He whipped out a picture of Obama and took a screencap of Saahil as well. After Saahil touched the ground after his powerful jump, he found that his ears had been swapped with that of Obama's. The heavy weight burdening him, Saahil fell to the ground with a large crash.

"Damn….liberal!" Saahil moaned in pain.

Seeing as Saahil was struggling to move even an inch, Manav pulled out his pager with the Kang family crest on it. "Hey, Justama. I'll pay you next year. Can you pick me up?" The hours passed, and yet there was no response from Justama. Ready to hand over the towel, Manav suddenly heard a cheerful response from his device.

"Hey, there! Sorry, but Justama's dead."

"And who the hell are you?"

"I'm Jhore. I'm not important enough to be anything other than a replacement for Justama."

"Aren't you the asshole who stapled him?"

"No, that was my twin brother Whore."

"That's suspicious. Are you even a furry?"

"I..uh...I like Sonic."

"Good enough. I'm at Shoemaker. Get over here before this Neo-Nazi gets off the ground."

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	23. Chapter 23

Whitney Temperatures

Detention Squad

Birth of Faggotry

Chapter 26

Shitter. The planet of the hipsters. It was filled with 90's mom jeans, shake'n' sketches, and VHS tapes of crappy, forgotten Disney movies. This planet was hovering only a few hundred miles away from the holy dunk, and the effects were devastating. Almost all the stuff in Shitter that died with the turn of the modern century was destroyed. The main center of destruction was New Utah, a place where people could talk about how much they hate the modern generation to their heart's content. The greenery was replaced with mountains of rubble. On top of the highest pile stood Bony Cawk.

Cawk's heart was tainted with tragic tales of copyright and lawsuits. The Kang family funded a project that was meant to perfect cloning. Their first subject was none other than Tony Hawk himself. His clone became internationally famous, as this was the first ever successful human cloning project recorded. However, Tony Hawk had this planned all along. Using his seemingly hunky body as a distraction, Hawk lured his fans into a financial trap. Hawk filed copyright complaints on his clone for using his body without permission. The clone eventually had to go to court, where he massacred everybody in the courtroom including Tony Hawk before the judge could get his verdict out. With the Kang family covering his tracks, the clone became knows as Bony Cawk. The Ultimate Bro Skater.

Cawk could hear a slight rustle beneath the pile of broken bricks he was standing on. The sound lead him to a boy beneath a stray poster of David Hasselhoff. Moving the heavy poster aside, Cawk took his own hat off and sighed in relief to see a bruised Clark with a torn beanie beneath the poster.

"All I wanted," moaned Clark while coughing, "was a world without Jews….."

With a slap, Cawk tried to snap Clark back into reality. "Snap out of it, yo! The dunk-quake is over, unless there's a free-throw shock."

"Oh, okay. Well, I've been practicing those ollies. I think I'm getting better."

"Bodacious!"

"Yeah, thank-"

"No. By that I meant you're a piece of shit and I'm ashamed that you're my apprentice."

"Why the fuck am I here again?"

"You threw a hissy fit on the Detention Squad like you were some kind of hipster. Your angst lead you to this planet. Wait, what's that on your skateboard?" Cawk pointed to a vague drawing on Clark's skateboard beneath the poster.

"Oh. That's a-"

"A what?"

"It's a dick, for fuck's sake."

"That's how you draw dicks, you little bitch?"

"Well, that's how most people do it, anyway."

"It's just two circles connected by some loop! You have to feel the dick within you!"

"I tried-"

"No! Do or do not. There is no try."

"Well, how do you _want _me to do it?"

"Detail! You need more detail!" Bony Cawk tried his best to scratch out the crude dick drawing on Clark's skateboard to draw another with his blood.

"What the hell? All you did was make the two circles slightly less round."

"Exactly! It's the details that matter. A true artist recognizes this! Now, you do it."

Clark, palms sweaty and mom's spaghetti, took his luck at this drawing challenge. He managed to draw the exact same thing, but with a slight less curve. "Are you proud of me now?"

"Hmm….No."

"This is bullshit."

"You just did what I did! It's time for you to start thinking for yourself, you self-righteous faggot. Now, concentrate with all your might." Bony Cawk handed Clark a crappy, chewed pen.

"I just gotta believe!" Clark conjured up the famous 2-D dick drawing with a swing of the pen.

"Still shit, but at least you did something. I guess it can distract people."

"I'm not even going to try to satisfy you now, you dick. Well, what do you want me to do now?"

"I think it's time to test your speed now, Clarky boy. We have gotten a generous donation from the League of Cancerous Furries. I think it'll do well to test you." Bony Cawk pulled up a cage near the poster next to the rubble.

"Jesus fucking Christ….." Clark looked in horror at the horrid fluff ball. The purple pigment sickened even Bony Cawk, who was holding the cage by his pinky.

"You're gonna race this. Your name is Clark, right?"

"Yeah. It's been a month since we met, you cockslinger."

"Well, I hope you're ready to face the all powerful Coldsteel."

"_Coldsteel_? The same Coldsteel that burned down the entirety of fan fiction? The same one who reinvented edginess? The same one that made awful grammar a way of life?"

"Yes. He graduated at the top of his class in the Hedgey academy. Well, I hope you're ready. Mount your skateboard." In a deafening crack, the small cage opened. Bony Cawk hesitantly patted the small, purple, terrible fan character on the head. "Now, I want you to race that beanie kid, okay? Don't lose control, Coldsteel."

The purple hedgehog smiled at Bony Cawk disgustingly. He whispered the words, "I like hurtin' people."

"Yeah…..Okay. Now race him," commanded Bony Cawk.

"I like death metal."

"I get the point, you furry asshat. Just race him already."

"I like purple."

"I will gut you, you little shit. Just. Fucking. Go."

"I like hawt gurls and sluts."

"..."

"Kekekekek. Okay, I race him. Then win. Okay?"

"I guess your grammar really isn't getting any better. Whatever. Go."

Kicking off from his tiny, edgy legs, Coldsteel ran past Clark in a surprisingly quick dash. Coldsteel's earrings dangled as he smiled at a desperate Clark. However, Coldsteel took into note that Clark was gaining on him quickly with his skateboard. Thinking slowly, Coldsteel took the nearest garbage can and threw it at Clark.

"Pssshhh….nothin…personnel, kidd," cackled the hedgehog.

"Goddamnit!"Clark kicked off into the air, but Coldsteel's autism kept Clark from getting any nearer to him. This high level of aspergers made Clark sick in the gut, slowing him down significantly.

To this Coldsteel said once more, "Pssshhh….nothin…personnel, kidd."

Clark, finally about to throw in the towel, saw an explosion commence beneath Coldsteel the Edgehog's feet. He saw the purple furry's innards splatter out in a gust of strong wind.

"What the hell happened?" Clark muttered to himself.

Behind Clark, Bony Cawk appeared out of the dust. "It's okay Clark," he assured, "It's not your fault. His own autism killed him. You can only reach a certain point of retardation until it kills you. What a shame. He was such an original character."

Solemnly holding his own skateboard in his hands, Clark walked towards the sunset with Bony Cawk.

"God?" asked Clark, "Why did you make autism?"

"I don't know," replied the voice of the god Gary Smutz from the sky, "But don't worry. It's….nothin….personnel….kidd."

A single tear fell from Clark's cheek as the voice of Gary Smutz disappeared from the sky.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	24. Chapter 24

Whitney Temperatures

Detention Squad

END OF FAGGOTRY

The door to the MAC lab screeched as Ben Espejo made his way in.

"Ah," said Ben Espejo looking at a bottle clouded with dust on top of the front table, "I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long, Mrs. Shea. As you ordered, I finished examining Robert's body for any traces of Paco. With the gas in effect, Rob should be dead within two minutes or so." Ben Espejo took the cap off of the bottle with great precision. With a pop, the dust flowed out instantaneously to reveal the disfigured red headed Mrs. Shea.

"Thank you, Ben," murmured Shea, "I trust you have Paco's medallion?"

"I sure-"

With a crash, the MAC lab door opened once more. A familiar floppy dick slowly walked into the room. "_Give it back_," he said ominously, "_or I'll tell everybody your secret, Shea._"

"Paco," cackled Shea, "What are you talking about? What secret are you talking about?"

"_I know your real identity. You lied to the district about being a mundie. I know you're actually a bitch. A pure blooded bitch, at that. You can get executed for lying to the district about your frequency._"

"He's exactly correct," confirmed a voice right behind Paco. Shea and Ben Espejo stared in awe as they saw the infamous Rhonda Buss pat Paco's head. Buss was the blonde half faggot, half bitch that somehow got a job as a principal. "Of course, I don't need to worry about it," she continued, "My mother was a faggot. My father was a bitch. Everybody knows that."

In a split second, Ben Espejo and Shea launched themselves at Buss and Paco. In confusion, Paco's body ejaculated and warped before Espejo could land a hit on him. With Espejo desperately searching for any sign of Paco, Buss and Shea continued their vicious scuffle.

"A half blood like you could never defeat a pure blooded bitch like me, Buss!"

"Quiet, ginger!"

As Buss was relentlessly slapping and kicking Shea with the strength of one million germs, Shea shaped herself into dust as a distraction. The dust smothered Buss from all directions, leading the unexpecting blondie to cough and hack violently.

"This is the end for you, Buss! Not even the planet of the bitches could survive my power!"

"You fool! I had this planned all along!" Rapidly, Buss reached under the front table of the MAC lab and pulled out a vacuum cleaner. Shea was sucked clean in to the vacuum, gasping for breath. After a few seconds, she was fully trapped and tormented. Buss put the cleaner aside and looked towards Ben. "Now, Ben. I'll let you live if you just give me the-"

What Buss wanted, Ben never found out. Paco had already warped behind Buss in a flurry of light before she could react. Buss' very essence was moved towards another dimension after Paco put his sticky hands around her.

"What the hell…," Ben wondered in awe.

Unfortunately for Ben, another guest made his way into the MAC lab. Delque had bandages after his fight with Robert, but he was making a niggalicious recovery. Strangely, he was not accompanied by Aldrich, as he was hacking the vending machine while Delque made his entrance.

"THAT'S MY DICK!" shouted Delque, pointing towards Paco.

"_Delque,_" greeted Paco, "_It has been a while._"

"You better start explaining things! Why the hell aren't you dead, Paco? And how did you take control of my dick? Don't even think of lying to me, Paco! I'd recognize my own dick from a mile away!"

"_Don't point your fingers at me, Delque. This was all Aldrich's idea. He offered me revenge on Mrs. Shea for attempting to murder me while I was in the hospital. Aldrich also wanted to see the extent of your power, so he stole your dick while you were asleep so he could make a deal with you later on. He transported my soul into your dick so that I could survive, for my old body was much too injured to live in._"

"Goddamnit! That shitty gatorade dealer planned all of this out! It all makes sense now…."

"_Well, it was nice seeing you again, Delque, but if you'll excuse me….."_

"Hell no! I'm not leaving without my dick!" Delque's anger outweighed Paco's warping ability. Delque quickly grabbed Paco and reattached the dick to where it belonged originally.

"NO!" Ben Espejo shouted, "Now that you reattached it, Paco's soul is gone forever! I could have studied it for so much longer!"

"I don't really care. I feel great now! With my dick reattached, I can destroy Aldrich and this entire damn school!"

Ben Espejo quivered in fear as a laughing Delque made his way towards him. However, it was then that Espejo had his epiphany. He remembered Liebenau's old technique. Yes! He could use the same method Liebenau used to knock the black out of Niggaless! Ben Espejo was gasping for breath as he was running towards the lost and found box behind the MAC lab with Delque following him. When he finally reached it, Ben pulled out a gallon of bleach and some dirty laundry.

"It's over for you now, Ben! I can finally get you back for putting me in prison!" laughed Delque. "Now…._ERECTIN' A DISPENSER!" _As Delque said these words, the bulge in his pants grew larger and larger. He was now standing on his own dick.

When Delque was within a feet of Ben, Ben pulled out his bleached clothing and whipped Delque with it with all his might. After the impact, Delque let out a deafening scream and fell over. Delque's black skin slowly turned extremely white, and his dick shrunk exponentially.

"NO! LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE, BEN! I'M AN ALBINO NOW!" Ashamed, Delque ran away from the school as fast as he could. As Delque was sobbing, he realized he had lost all his honor in his one stroke of overconfidence.

Ben Espejo sighed in relief and put the bleached clothes aside. However, when he turned around, he saw a most undesirable face.

"You took away my best employee…," said the sneaky Aldrich.

"Woah!" Ben tripped over the surrounding boxes in shock.

"Surprised? You can be assured that I'll find out everything about my employees."

"Who cares? It's not like he was going to continue working for you anyway. Paco already told him the truth."

"Silence! I will punish you for your insolence! _Morir_!" Aldrich punched through Ben Espejo's stomach, leaving a giant gaping hole with tremendous amounts of blood pouring out of it. Aldrich went straight back to eating his corn pops after he kicked Ben's corpse aside. He noticed after he strolled outside the school that two odd Messicans were staring at him from a distance.

Brayan and his abuelo were whispering, planning to get rid of Aldrich for good.

"Did you see that, abuelo? That kid just killed one of our fellow Messicans for no reason!"

"I know, my chico. We must be patient and wait for a chance to strike. The little child is powerful."

When Aldrich finally put his chips in the garbage can, he was immediately jumped by Brayan and his abuelo.

"Kid," said Brayan's abuelo, "You could be taken in for a long time for murder, but that was one of our fellow Messicans, whitey! I'll take care you myself! Stand back, Brayan. This person is too _peligroso_ for you!"

"Okay, abuelo!" Brayan jumped to the sidewalk as his abuelo took action.

The old Messican's jet black hair instantly turned sharper than knives and rushed towards Aldrich.

"You can modify your hair without hair gel?" inquired a dodging Aldrich.

"That's right," Brayan's abuelo responded, "It takes a true Messican to master this art!"

In a slip, Aldrich was stabbed by the extremely sharp hair, thus slowing him down further. The abuelo's hair took on properties of glue and stickied Aldrich in place, where the young boy was repeatedly stabbed.

"Say it!" ordered Brayan's abuelo, "Say that you regret killing a fellow innocent Messican, and I will let law enforcement continue your punishment! If you deny, I shall kill you right here!"

Due to Aldrich's silence, Brayan's abuelo had his hair take on the properties of acid to subjugate Aldrich to further torture.

"F-fine!" muttered Aldrich.

"What was that?"

"I'm sorry!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

"Fine. I will hand you over to the authorities." However, Aldrich was not quite done yet. While Brayan's abuelo had his back turned, an injured Aldrich snuck behind him with his killing intent.

"ABUELO, LOOK OUT!" yelled Brayan, but he was all too late. Aldrich had already struck his blow.

"_Adios_," said Aldrich as he punctured Brayan's abuelo. The old Messican instantly fell over, spouting blood all over the floor.

"ABUELO, NO!" Brayan rushed as fast as he could towards his abuelo.

"Brayan, my son," moaned Brayan's abuelo in pain, "Show this person what it means to be a true Messican. I believe you can surpass me…"

Brayan's tears flowed as he heard his abuelo's last breath. Aldrich knocked Brayan aside and drank the abuelo's blood for more Messican power.

"You!" yelled Brayan, "What the hell are you doing? Why are you speaking the Messican language when you're not even Messican?!"

"But you see, I _am _a Messican. A few months after I was born, a taco was inserted into my genes. The sequence "GATACO" was an experiment placed on me. I am a true Messican whether you like it or not. The tacos flow through my blood."

"There is no gene for the Messican spirit!" Brayan shouted in fury as he attempted to land a punch on Aldrich. Aldrich swiftly countered Brayan's attack and crushed his hair gel as well.

"What are you without your hair gel, Brayan? Nothing!"

"You _peque__ño _midget! I will have your head!"

Despite all of Brayan's efforts, he was casually shrugged aside after every blow.

"You fool. How can you do much better after I just killed your abuelo?"

"You dirty dick! You pulled a coward move! Abuelo….I won't forget you!" Aldrich stared in awe as Brayan's rage took shape in a bright, brown light. Burritos and tacos spurted out of Brayan's body one by one. With a final shine, a sombrero popped out of Brayan's head.

"Could you be…._The Legendary Super Messican?!"_

"That's right, white boy! My father once told me that I was the hope and strength of the Messicans all over the world! Maybe I am….this _Legendary Super Messican_."

Aldrich noticed Brayan's pick up in pace, but he was still no match for Aldrich's strength and speed. "You are still underdeveloped, young Messican!"

"I wouldn't be too sure about that, niño!" Brayan's spiky hair extended towards the midget, scratching his cheek.

"I see….Now you can modify your hair without the gel as well?"

"That's not all I have. _CINCO DE MAYO!_" Brayan's words yielded a tequila bottle to appear in Brayan's hand, which he smashed Aldrich with. The cuts injured Aldrich further, with even more blood spilling on the floor of the outskirts of the school.

"That's not enough! I have absorbed even more strength from the Messican blood I drank!" With a flank, Aldrich struck Brayan with all his might, but Brayan still held his ground.

"White boy, you told me you had a taco inserted into your genes? Well, true Messicans also need a burrito in their genes!"

"What?! No! You're bluffing! That can't be true!"

"It's true! Look!" Brayan picked up a burrito detector out of his sombrero, and showed the scans to Aldrich.

"No….My entire life was a lie. I'm not a true Messican after all?"

"That's right! You have violated the Messican language through and through!"

It seemed the world stood still for a few minuted as Aldrich contemplated his own life. He realized the denial in his heart and exploded from within. His head was all that remained from the explosion. Brayan leaned towards his abuelo and ate a taco off of his head to honor him. There, he stood, mourning the death of his abuelo.

Meanwhile, Jay stood in the infirmary, shocked at his diagnosis.

"Jay," said the doctor, "I'm afraid you won't have long to live. You have been diagnosed with autism."

"How long do you think I'll have?" asked Jay.

"I'd say till the end of this chapter if you're lucky."

Outside the infirmary stood Noah, who had just completed his listing of gatorade shipments.

"What do you want to do-"

"Noah! Listen to me. What do you say we start writing fanfictions about our exaggerated lives?"

"That sounds stupid."

"No! Researchers say that most people who have been diagnosed with autism choose this route before they die. It's perfect!"

"Okay."

"Noah! We need to cook!"

"Uh…"

"Noah! We need to write….shitty fanfictions!"

Noah and Jay headed off to work on crappy fanfictions over google docs.

"Okay….okay….Now let's kill that person off…"

"Jay, I think you're going too far with this shit. We might get caught."

"But think of the all the pay we'll get! Gabe and Justama will eat this crap up! Hell, even Vedant would buy this."

"Vedant is dead, you fucking retard. But I'm intrigued. How much are we making here?"

"Well, you see, the average fanfictions have a euphoria percentage of about 58%. _Our _fanfiction is 99.05% euphoric!"

"That's like….32 million dollars a week!"

"Exactly, Noah! We can't stop now!"

The next day, Noah and Jay held a meeting with a few anonymous buyers on a secluded alleyway.

"What do we know about these customers?" asked Noah.

"Well, I know one of them is a furry. The other guys is just some nerd. They seem pretty interested in our fanfiction. I wonder how much we'll make off of this," Jay replied.

Jay and Noah saw Jhore and Manav inch closer. They seemed a bit disturbed after their encounter with Saahil.

"So, what type of fanfiction are we looking at here?" inquired Manav.

"Well," started Jay, "It has plenty of fanservice that will boost your egos."

"Sounds like overhyped garbage," sneered Manav.

"A-Am I in it?" asked Jhore.

"You _can _be," assured Noah.

"Then I'll buy it!" yelled Jhore.

However, a group of rowdy figures were nearing closer towards the dealers.

"Who the hell are those guys?" wondered Noah.

As the figures drew nearer, it became clear that the group was full of weeaboos.

"Shit! Weeaboos!" warned Manav, "What the hell do they want with us?"

There were about 30 of them, and they were all led by the weeaboo king Alex Lui.

"So, Jay," started Alex, "I've read your fanfiction. Some pretty edgy stuff, in an... autistic way. I won't tell Mr. Spratt about it as long as you give me the fee I'm looking for…"

"No way!" replied Jhore, "They're not going to hand in any revenue for just some fanfiction!"

Alex and the weeaboos pulled out their odd anime weapons they got at some Japan convention. "This is your last warning, Jay and Noah. Hand it over and there won't be any trouble.

"NOAH! JAY! RUN!" Manav pulled out his laptop and Jhore pulled out his trademark stapler.

Noah and Jay quickly hid behind the ally as Manav and Jhore took cover behind a broken down car. In a sudden bang, the weeaboos started firing their nerd weapons. The car was taking most of the damage and Manav pulled out his CS GO weapons from the laptop. Jhore continued to fire his stapler in Alex's general direction. It was 2 against 30, and the minority's cover was nearly blown. Alex pulled out his green elven sword in the heat of the war, not looking worried at all. Manav barely had enough time to reload, but his weapon switching was time consuming as well. The projectiles and bullets nearly destroyed all the ground between the two parties. Alex's sword effortlessly blocked most of the projectiles headed towards him. In a blow of fate, a katana and stray shurikens pierced through Manav's defense, striking him down. The blood poured next to a shocked Jhore. Alex's Narrow Toe headband pushed Manav back and dealt the finishing blow.

"Manav! Come on! Get up!" Jhore desperately tried to convince himself that Manav was alive, but he only heard one last word from him.

"Kawaii…" whispered Manav with his last breath.

Enraged, Jhore fired his stapler even more rapidly than before, but his ammo had run dry. Alex was roaring with laughter as he inched towards Jhore.

"Tell me Jhore…What's your favorite anime?" Asked Alex.

"Uh...Dragonb-"

"Wrong answer! You uncultured swine! It's obviously Juan Piss!" Alex stabbed Jhore in the knee.

"I'll never bow down to Nardo and The Piss of Juan, weeaboo! Long live 'Murica!" yelled Jhore in pain.

"Goodbye, Jhore. Maybe you'll see Japan in the afterlife." Alex stabbed Jhore in the head to deal the finishing blow as Noah and Jay observed them in shock.

Alex ran towards Noah and Jay. "You're coming with me," said Alex as he dragged the two into his otaku carriage. He drove them to the weeaboo club's headquarters in a secluded desert. "You will worship anime boobs in this place, you understand? Write your shitty fanfictions here."

"Noah, I have a plan," whispered Jay to Noah.

"What kind of plan?" asked Noah

"I want you to run as fast as you can as soon as I tell you to. I'll do the rest."

Alex finally lead the two to the door. "Now, Jay. I want you to take off your fedora and shave your neckbeard," he ordered.

Jay felt his soul melt away as all of the hair fell from his neck. His fedora was lying on the table next to the infamous weeaboos.

"You guys are pathetic," sneered Alex, "I want you to make me the main character of your fanfiction and give me Narrow Toe powers, and then you won't have to pay any money."

Noah inched further away from the weeaboos. "Alex, you're going to regret this deeply. If you let us go, we won't tell any-"

"NOAH, GET DOWN!" Jay rushed towards his fedora and saw the right chance. He pulled out an M-16 machine gun from the shitty hat and mowed down the weeaboos one by one. Blood splattered all over the cabins, and Alex ducked down too late as he was shot right in the stomach. In a linear pattern, Jay continued firing until every single last one of them was dead. Well, _almost_ every one of them. With the last of his strength Alex sliced Jay with his green elven sword straight across the stomach before Alex was shot again and finally killed. "That's for killing the furry and the nerd, weab." Jay solemnly walked towards his laptop that Alex had stashed in the corner. He looked at all the shitty fanfiction chapters he wrote and fell on the ground. "Noah," moaned Jay, "We have to end the fanfiction. Too many people want fanservice now...Tell them to fuck off. Oh, by the way. Mr. Brent told me something before he died that I think means something. He said 'beware the rose.' Not sure what it means, but it could have made a good chapter for our fanfiction. Good..bye."

"It meant Rosenberg, retard."

"Oh. Yeah."

With these words, Jay fell cold on the floor, with the blood from the sword wound slowly rushing out. After witnessing Jay's death, Noah uploaded the last chapter of the fanfiction and headed slowly back towards the school.

When Noah finally trotted back on campus, he heard the loudspeakers call for the Detention Squad to the office.

Jesus, a bruised Brayan, and Noah all met up in the main office to see Mr. Spratt. "Yo," greeted Mr. Spratt, "Where the hell is Jay? And Clark still isn't back yet?

"Jay's dead," answered Noah.

"Oh," sighed Mr. Spratt, "Well, I'm going to have to cut off this Detention Squad thing."

"What?!" shouted Brayan.

"Finally," grunted Jesus thankfully.

"You see," started Spratt, "You guys didn't exactly live up to my expectations. The customers don't really like the gatorade, plus the battle with Raymond had a lot of expenses. We're spending more money than we're making money."

"Wait, so the whole college thing you promised is off?" inquired Noah.

"It sure is," Spratt replied.

The angered Messican inched near the blonde ballet man. "You dick! After all we've done for you?" Brayan threw a punch that Spratt casually slapped away and countered.

"Damnit, Spratt! Cutting us off like this…" Noah stared at Spratt in anger, then at Jesus who didn't really seem to care.

From the depths of hell, the furry Justama observed this battle while feeding Satan grapes.

"Damnit!" pouted Justama, "Where the hell is Clark? Satan, can I just bring Clark to the battlefield then come back here?"

"No," roared Satan, "I'm hungry."

"I'll bring in Bony Cawk's skateboard for you."

"Oooh! I love that skateboard he rides! Fine, bring Bony Cawk's skateboard to me after you're done bringing Clark to Earth."

Ignoring the grumpy Gabriel, Justama rode off from the hell portal and out of Earth's atmosphere. He reached the planet Shitter, which looked like it could not withstand the ungrateful asshole hipsters in it's area.

Justama landed with a rainbow blast next to Bony Cawk and Clark. He quickly rammed into Bony Cawk to steal his skateboard away and took Clark by his collar and carried him off back into space.

"What the hell? Let go of me, you disgusting furry!" ordered Clark. However, Justama withstood Clark's squirming and dropped him off next to his fellow Detention Squad members.

"Clark!" Brayan was overjoyed and went to hug Clark as a welcome.

"Ew, faggot," said Clark in disgust and knocked Brayan aside.

"Goddamnit," moaned Jesus, "Why are you back here? Nobody liked you in the first place."

"It's the last chapter, so we need to be all inspirational and shit. It's supposed to be heartwarming and all."

"Whatever," said Jesus, "As long as the plot doesn't screw me over again."

Spratt casually dodged all of Brayan's tequila and hair attacks as well as Captain Falcon's falcon punch. His lack of acknowledgement towards Clark caused him to have his head bashed in by Clark's skateboard.

"That's not all!" said Clark, "I've picked up a few more tricks!" Clark conjured up a drawn dick to push Spratt back further, which caused him to walk in to Noah's rainbow fist. The powerful strike sent him flying out the office window. But now, Spratt was in his full leotard. His _fagbo ballet_ eluded Clark's second attacked and kicked Noah square in the jaw.

"Lucas! Kick his ass!" Jesus summoned Lucas to the scene to actually do something useful. A massive strike pounded Spratt into the ground again.

"You asshats!" yelled Spratt, "Don't you remember why you got detention in the first place? For working in groups when you shouldn't have! Also copying homework, but you get the point!"

Spratt's own anger was his downfall, as he was surrounded at once. Another rainbow fist, a falcon punch, Clark's perfected dick, and Brayan's Super Messican tequila collided onto the blonde ballet man at once. It became apparent that Spratt could no longer handle all of the Detention Squad at once.

"Spratt…" whispered Noah, "You pathetic crack dealer. I'm going to kill you now, just letting you know." However, before Noah could deliver the final blow, two aged hands stopped him. Noah looked up with complete fear. Absolute dread filled his mind as he saw Bill Raabe and Jonathan Dalley. Dalley and Raabe were the two main celestial beings of the district directly under the almighty god Gary Smutz.

"Ah," groaned Bill Raabe, "How the hell did the dean of students get beat up by a bunch of freshmen?"

"I don't know," said Dalley in his monotone voice, "But we're here now. Let's kill these delinquents while we still can."

Dalley had an axed stored in his gigantic lumberjack beard. He pulled the long steel weapon and pointed it at a frozen Noah.

"HEY!" yelled a familiar voice.

"What?!" Bill Raabe inquired in confusion, "Victor? Since when did you care about coming to school?"

"I don't, but you assholes ruined my League of Lesbians game I was playing with that dickhead Steve! Why did you guys decide to teleport right under my internet router?!"

"Victor," started Dalley, "We have unfinished business. You were once one of us, you know. A celestial being. Why don't you come back now?"

"I don't give a shit about that anymore. I just want to play League of Lesbians in my room!"

Victors punch almost landed, but Bill Raabe and Dalley took to the stars. With a gigantic leap that was greater than that of Barkley's, Victor also jumped into space to continue his fight with the two celestial beings. They flew higher and higher into many different galaxies, trying to take blows at each other.

With a swing from Dalley's axe, a couple of neighboring solar systems were destroyed in an instant. Victor narrowly dodged the black hole that Bill Raabe formed behind him. One by one, stars exploded due to the might of the battle. Dalley decided to whip out his trusty guitar. The tune nearly deafened Victor, and caused shockwaves all across the galaxies. Bill Raabe's gravitational ability summoned a couple of suns towards the fight. Victor, blocking his ears from Dalley's shockwave, desperately kicked the many suns aside.

"Urgh! I'm done with this crap!" yelled an annoyed Victor. After pulling his hands from his ears, he instantly beheaded Bill Raabe with his own two hands. Dalley, struck by fear, ran desperately away from Victor, until he was stopped by another old man.

"Good morning, sir," said the eccentric Rosenjew.

"Rosenberg?" asked Victor, "How the hell did you get up here? Weren't you on a trip with your MUNers or something?"

"I was, but then this little shit ruined it all. He took us on the wrong path." Rosenberg showed Victor Dhiraj's dead body. "I believe he played League of Lesbians with you? That game must be a bad influence, no doubt. I'll have to eradicate you, Victor." Rosenberg absorbed the god like powers from Bill Raabe's headless corpse floating in space. Instantly, Rosenberg threw his signature bear up, and it expanded instantly into an enormous size. The teddy bear grew vicious fangs and bloodlusted for Victor. Dalley pulled his axe once more to hopefully finish off Victor.

However, the bear was merely a second's worth of a distraction. After ripping the cotton from the killer teddy bear apart, Victor rushed towards Rosenberg and pulled out the old man's heart. He crushed the organ and left Rosenberg to die with no mercy at all. Dalley rushed towards Victor with his axe, but to no avail. With a snap of his fingers, Victor broke the powerful axe in half, leaving Dalley defenseless. Victor tugged hard on Dalley's beard, ripping his head off just like Bill Raabe. With a yawn, Victor decided to go back to his own room back on Earth to resume playing League of Lesbians.

"Well," sighed Noah, "That's that." Noah and the Detention Squad finished killing Spratt after Victor finished his battle.

When the Detention Squad finally cleaned up the mess and ignored the staff's retorts, they headed outside only to hear a familiar voice say, "_All according to plan_."

"Goddamnit, Jesse! You again?" yelled an exhausted Noah.

Meanwhile, Satan was enjoying his new skateboard back in hell with Justama lazily reading Teen Mom magazines.

Satan noticed a tear fall from Gabe's face as he observed the Detention Squad confront Jesse.

"Why did I have to die?" asked Gabe rhetorically.

"Fine, I'll give you a goddamn second chance under one condition as long as you promise to stop fucking whining," roared Satan.

Gabe perked his head up like an excited dog. "Really?! What do I have to do?"

"You must take your father's anal virginity."

"What?!"

"Look, man, take it or leave it."

"Fine. Just warp me there." With a snap of his fingers, Satan lead Gabe to Shrek's swamp.

"Father," said Gabe, "I have returned."

"Shut up, son. You're a loser," groaned Shrek the previous Ogre King.

Gabe had tears rolling out of his eyes. He smashed the nearest window in both anger and melancholy. "Fuck you, dad! You always like Donkey and Snoop Diggity Dawg better than me! I don't even know who my mother is!"

Shrek was deeply touched by Gabe's words. "There, there, son. I'm sorry. You came here to take my anal virginity, right?" Shrek pulled down his pants to reveal his dark green ass. "Here, son. Take it. You can have it. You deserve it after all the shit I've put you through."

"R-Really?"

"Of course."

After about a thousand failed orgasms and blood everywhere, Gabe succeeded in taking Shrek's anal virginity.

"Alright, I can go back now."

Out in the distance, Satan arrived, howling in laughter.

"What are you laughing at?" asked Gabe.

"You actually did it! You actually had anal intercourse with your father! He already lost his anal virginity a long time ago! To me! Your father was just fucking with you!"

"WHAT?! So I'm not coming back to Earth?"

"Hell no. Get it? Hell?"

Gabe sighed, "Well this went nowhere."

Back on Earth, Jesse had already beat up the Detention Squad and had taken their lunch money.

"You guys are such a disappointment!" laughed Jesse, "You guys haven't even improved that much. How you beat the ballet asshole is beyond me."

A heavily injured Jesus sent Mario for another round, but Jesse simply pulled out his pocket knife and stabbed the video game character to death. Brayan tossed another taco that missed his target, and a bored Noah proceeded to eat his skittles. Clark was just as bored and checked his facebook status while Jesus and Brayan got their asses handed to them.

"Wait a second," said Noah, "We're the main characters and the writers, right? So why don't we just erase Jesse's name from the script or something?"

"WAIT, NO!" Jesse yelled in fright as his name was erased from the fanfiction dialogue.

"That was a waste of time," said Jesus, "We should have just done that for everybody we fought against. The fourth wall is practically destroyed now."

"See you later, my non-Messicans. Except for you, Jesus. You're just a faggot," said Brayan.

A few days after the fight, the characters moved on with their lives. Gabe became a stripper for the Ogre night club in Hell and Justama went to furry conventions all around the Underworld. Jesus died in his basement by playing too many video games. Clark's dick drawings were held up in art museums all across the world, and basketball became unbanned. Victor didn't have to pay any taxes due to his retardedly powerful physical strength and played League of Lesbians for the rest of his immortal life. Saahil and Min Jae fell in love and died. Delque joined the White Supremacists and was later executed. Jay realized his destiny as a terrorist in the afterlife and recreated 9/11. He went to live with Obama Bin Laden in the afterlife. Niggaless realized he could just paint himself black and joined the NBA. Jonathan joined Brayan in the planet of the Messicans. Shea was trapped in the vacuum cleaner for all eternity. Rafferty realized Spratt was full of shit and joined the mafia again. Raymond's soul was forever trapped in the space jam. And Noah found his dad 20 years later and and took over the Gatorade business despite having refused it before.

As the credits roll, we want to thank you assholes for reading this garbage. And no, we're not going to continue this. Goodbye. We hope you have a fucking awful life, you tards.

**THE END**


End file.
